


Dorothy Explores A Sacred Place

by Angelfire2021



Category: The Wizard Of Oz (1939), The Wizard of Oz & Related Fandoms
Genre: BDSM Scene, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Groping, Growing Up, Oral Sex, Personal Growth, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2020-08-20 03:51:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 32
Words: 45,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20221333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelfire2021/pseuds/Angelfire2021
Summary: Dorothy is having a hard time in Kansas but when she gets swept up to a new land she thinks it must all be a dream. And if its a dream then it doesn't really matter what goes on as there will be nothing for Aunt Em to punish her for.From being the hated skinny ginger girl she's seen as a rare beauty in Oz who needs to be thoroughly ravaged. Having been brought up in puritanical ways Dorothy gets to explore the sacred areas of her body.But as she travels through the land trying to find her way home Dorothy begins to realise it might not be a dream after all.





	1. Chapter 1

Dorothy stopped running about two hundred yards from the farm. She didn't want them to see she'd been crying when she got back, especially if the farmhand hadn't gone home. Aunt Emily would sit on a wooden chair, firing off questions about why she was so upset. She’d want to know if it was something to do with boys.

Which of course it was.

Anything to do with boys typically meant getting her mouth washed out with soap and a dozen whacks with the paddle. If Aunt Em considered it real bad, then Dorothy would be cleansed with a scrubbing brush in the horse trough. Then it would be praying against her bed for forgiveness before going to bed without any supper.

It wasn’t her fault. It was the mean boys and girls. It was they who should be asking God for forgiveness tonight, not her. But Aunt Emily would blame her for being a brazen hussy and an awful sinner destined for hell if she didn’t mend her ways.

Aunt Emily would spend the rest of the night, reading her Bible and praying to God to forgive her niece.

Ambling, Dorothy took some deep breaths. She tried to calm her tears and keep from rubbing her eyes. Not wanting to make them any redder. The wind whipped at her blue-and-white gingham dress, and it fluttered around her knees, but the thick underskirt kept her decent as well as the knee-length white socks Auntie Emily insisted she wore.

Dorothy looked up. The clouds were darkening as they hurried across the sky. White fluffy shapes scurried ahead of dark foreboding clouds as if they were trying to escape. Dorothy looked towards the horizon seeing the dust from the expanse of flat, drab, Kansas fields being thrown up by the wind.

The wind tugged at her strawberry blond plaits, and she tossed them over her shoulder with annoyance. They were so childish, and their deep red colour reminded her of the horrible names she’d been called after school. She’d actually thought they’d invited her down to the river to be kind, and when Mike had sidled over to talk to her Dorothy’s heart had started racing. Mike was the best looking boy in their year. All the other girls talked about him, and Dorothy knew he’d made out with some of the pretty ones.

He’d told her that he liked her. Said she was gorgeous. Said he wanted to kiss her. He told her to close her eyes because he was shy.

Dorothy did so. She’d felt a warmth flood through her body as she anticipated the kiss.

She could still hear the laughter ringing in her ears the moment she felt something warm touch her lips. Dorothy had opened her eyes to discover she was kissing a Toad; one of Mike’s friends was holding it up to her lips.

But that wasn’t the worst. Mike stood and told Dorothy she was crazy for thinking he’d ever kiss someone like her. No boy in the school would because they didn’t want to catch the freckles off her face or gingivitis.

His friend had chimed in that he might have if she didn’t have such tiny titties.

It was then Dorothy had turned and ran.

Another gust of wind tore at her clothes and nearly knocked Dorothy over. The clouds had gathered to make an angry tower of black and grey. Dorothy knew it meant a tornado was coming.

A bad one.

She picked up the pace hoping her red eyes would be assumed to be because of all the dust. The gust strengthened, and she heard a substantial wrenching sound is the column of wind crashed into one of the small huts on the outskirts of the farm, sucking up the metal and wood until it was no longer there.

Dorothy broke into a sprint. She needed to get to the shelter, and nearing the farmhouse, she breathed a sigh of relief. Making for the storm shelter, she reached the heavy trap door at the entrance. It was open and Hank the farmhand was beckoning her inside. He was holding on to her beloved dog, Toto. Though Toto didn’t seem too happy about it.

“Gee I nearly shut the door Dorothy,” Hank shouted. “Get yourself down here.”

“Where’s Aunt Em and Uncle Henry.” She tried to peer passed the tall farmhand but couldn’t see them.

“They went looking for you. You should have been back, and they knew there was a storm a-coming. Come on.” He reached out for her, just as the storm close by them began to form a real nasty looking twister. “It’ll be cosy just the two of us.”

Dorothy was about to take his hand when she saw the glint in his eye. She knew what cosy would mean, and she’d be trapped with him. Hank liked to get his thing out and play with it when she was around. He’d watch her and looked for any opportunity to get her into trouble. One time she’d got curious when he’d asked if she wanted to touch it. The girls had talked about boys things at school. One had said they’d even let a boy put his in her sacred place.

She hadn’t heard the rest as she’d gone red and rushed off to say her prayers and cleanse her mind before Aunty Em found out. But it had made her wonder what it might feel like. She’d gone to the barn one day and hitched her skirt before pulling down her knickers so she could explore her sacred place with her fingers like she’d overheard to older girls talking about. It was in that state of undress Hank had found her. He threatened to tell Aunt Em unless she touched his thing. Mortally afraid, as well as curious, Dorothy had taken it in her hand.

God had truly wanted her to suffer that day, and Dorothy was sure her Aunt must have had a sign from him because she never usually went to the barn. Except for when Dorothy was on the floor, baring her sacred place and holding Hank’s thing.

He blamed it all on her. Telling Aunt Em Dorothy had threatened to make up stories to get him fired after he’d caught her sticking her fingers in her sacred place. The problem for Dorothy was his story was partly true, and she’d had to admit what she’d been up to. So Aunt Em had believed everything Hank told her, and Dorothy was even made to apologise to him before receiving the thrashing of her life.

She could only imagine what he might get up to in the shelter, especially as she would already be in trouble for being so late, forcing her Uncle and Aunt to go out to find her.

“I need to find them.” Dorothy snatched her hand back, and Hank nearly fell over.

“Don’t be stupid Dorothy.” He looked alarmed. Toto barked and struggled, leaping from his captor's arms and scurrying to the house.

“Toto, come back Toto.” Dorothy span on her heels and ran after her beloved dog as Hank shouted behind her. Ignoring him, and trying to ignore the wall of wind bearing down on the farm, she dashed inside the house calling for her Uncle and Aunt.

Toto ran under the bed and as Dorothy tried to get to him the whole house shuddered, and she was thrown on top of the mattress.

In despair, Dorothy tried to bury herself under the covers as tears streamed down her face. Auntie Emily had warned that one day God would punish the sinners and maybe this was her time

Dorothy found it hard to breathe as the air was sucked up by the twister, and her nose and mouth were full of foul dust. The house rattled violently as every pot, pan, table and chair bounced around the inside of the building. There was an intense howl as the walls and roof of their little farmhouse strained to stay in one piece.

Dorothy clasped her hands together.

“Please, God, I am sorry for my sins. Pleased don't let the storm kill me or hurt Aunty Em and Uncle Henry. I promise I’ll be nice to them and never think naughty thoughts again.”

As she finished her prayer the mightiest of gusts ripped the roof off the house, and when Dorothy looked up all she could see is the black and grey swirling twister with crazy items caught up in the funnel.

Tables, chairs and bicycles were spinning and spinning. She suddenly felt the bed lurch and was rising into the air. Realising it wasn't just her floating upwards, but the entire house, Dorothy screamed, clasping her hands even tighter, and praying harder as the house span faster and faster and faster, rising higher and higher and higher until she became so dizzy she couldn’t stay awake any more.


	2. She not in Kansas any more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up. Dorothy isn't sure where she is or what's going on with her body.
> 
> It all has to be a dream right?

There was just darkness to begin with. Dorothy hoped she wasn’t dead.

It took a few moments to realise it was dark because her eyes were shut. Dorothy decided to keep them closed for a while longer in case she was still spinning through the air; because that had been really frightening. It was certainly a lot quieter. No howling wind whipped around her ears. Though there did seem to be some high pitched chattering as well as a funny grunting noise. It was hard to tell because there was a ringing in her ears.

And she definitely wasn’t spinning any more. Dorothy was pleased about that. However, the lower half of her body did seem to be jerking up and down in a peculiar way. This made her more reluctant to open her eyes.

Plus things didn't smell quite right. Or at least they didn't smell like Kansas. The scent of honeysuckle wafted up to her nose. And she didn’t feel like sneezing. Which she did on most of the dry, dusty Kansas days. So it was quite a pleasant sensation all told.

Neither did her body feel like it had been bashed to pieces as it was hauled through the air by the twister. No pain screaming for attention. She’d cried for hours after falling off the fence into the pigsty once, so if there had been any real damage, she was sure to have felt it.

There was, however, a feeling of pressure on part of her body. It was right where the strange jerking sensation was coming from. Dorothy hoped nothing horrid had landed on her and squashed her body so she wouldn’t be able to move until somebody found her.

Trying to shake the thought from her mind, Dorothy realised there was fresh air on her legs and bottom; which again was strange because it had been so hot in Kansas. Plus the coolness wasn’t due to a breeze, but because her legs were raised. So maybe she'd fallen off the bed and was on the floor.

Keeping her eyes closed, Dorothy wiggled her fingers. She wasn’t on the floor. It felt more like she was lying on some soft grass like they found near the river. Had the wind blown her that far? It made it even more surprising there wasn’t any pain in her body

The ringing in her ears began to die down. The high pitched chattering became clearer, and sounded more like some sort of chant. There was more than one voice above her, but Dorothy didn’t recognise any of them.

She moved her focus to the pressure on her body. It seemed to be on her waist. At first, Dorothy thought it was on her legs to before she realised they were raised. Wriggling her toes, she still had her shoes on, but there her feet were in the air.

This meant the weight she felt was between her legs.

"Oh my." She said out loud, though she hadn’t meant to.

Dorothy became aware that not only was most of the pressure on her sacred place, but it was where the jerking motion was moving her body. Concentrating more on the feeling between her legs, Dorothy gasped. There was something thrusting right inside her sacred place, rising up and down in tandem with the jerking.

Dorothy frowned.

As shocked as she was at the turn of events she couldn’t but notice the intrusion wasn’t very big and didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt quite warm and pleasant.

Reminding her of…

Of course, this had to be a dream.

Dorothy squeezed her eyes tight and held her breath for a few moments thinking that it might all go away. First, there was panic within her as she thought it might be Hank on top of her. But he was much bigger, and Dorothy would know his smell anywhere.

Despite trying to wake herself up, the thrusting between her legs wouldn’t go away, and the sounds of unrecognisable voices were still around her.

Bracing herself, Dorothy opened her eyes. Though she was ready to shut them again if it turned out, she was somewhere too terrible for words.

But looking up there was a dark blue sky with clouds flitting across it. Though she did think it a little odd the clouds were yellow.

Looking down along her body, Dorothy saw the top of a small bald head just above her stomach. It looked the size of a boys and had light orange hair and orange skin. The head belonged to the equally small body thrusting between Dorothy’s legs and into her special area.

"Get off me!" Moving her arms up from by her sides, she pushed at the round head before grabbing the small man’s shoulders and forcing him off her. She felt the man thing inside her quickly pull out as the figure slumped back onto its knees. Now able to see his face, Dorothy noted he might be the size of a small boy, but it was undoubtedly the face of a man.

A man who was looking both shocked and surprised. If not a little disgruntled.

“Hey, it's my turn.” The strange boy-man said before trying to push back between her legs.

“Oh no you don’t." Dorothy shoved him back once more.

The Gingham dress had been pushed right up her legs, which was why it was cool around her bottom, and she realised that she couldn't feel she had any panties on. Dorothy went to pull her legs down so she could clap them together and stop another attempt from the strange orange little man. Only she couldn’t move her feet.

Dorothy saw her legs were bent upwards at the knees, but she couldn't see her feet because her ankles had been inserted into some strange stone statues. They were stood apart and resembled the peculiar creature. Though one wore a hat and the other had a long beard. Their hands were on their waists. Thus creating the gap for Dorothy’s ankles to have been pushed into.

She wiggled her feet as much as possible, but they wouldn’t come free.

“You're not being fair.” The creature moaned, trying to shuffle forward once more while Dorothy concentrated on freeing her legs. “It’s my turn, and you know it.”

“I don't know it, thank you very much.” Dorothy pushed him away again and tried to give him a hard glare, which told people she didn't want to be bothered anymore. Not that most people took any notice, but remarkably, the little orange man burst into tears.

“Stop being so mean.” He sobbed. “You've let everybody else have their turn. Don't you like me? Is it because it's too small?”

“Well, I’ve not had my turn either.” Another of the creatures behind the one between her legs stepped into view. He had similar orange features and a very shaggy looking beard.

“And me.” Another head popped up beside the one with the beard. He had a very round face with the most enormous nose Dorothy had ever seen in proportion to the size of his head.

“Is because she doesn't like us.” The creature continued to sob on his knees between her legs. “My cock is too small.”

“She doesn't like my beard.”

“It is my ears, she hates my ears.” It was the one with the gigantic nose. Dorothy couldn’t see anything wrong with his ears. “And I thought she was a nice witch.”

All three started sobbing, and Dorothy was perplexed.

“I don't hate you at all,” Dorothy said. “I don’t know any of you for a start. I just don’t want you putting your things inside me. And I’m not a witch.”

“But it's our turn.” The three creatures wailed in unison.

“What do you mean it's your turn?” Dorothy looked around her, still befuddled. There were about a dozen more similar figures all with orange features. Most wore blue pants and hats. They also had bare, well-muscled torso’s that looked out of place on such small bodies.

She gave another concerned frown. They all had pleased looks on the faces.

“Does that mean?” Dorothy was so horrified at the thought she could barely bring herself to speak. She saw three of the creatures hadn’t got any pants on. Their orange man things were dangling between tiny legs looking a lot bigger than they should have been for the size of their bodies. “Have you all had a turn?”

Every one of them nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, God, that's terrible.” Dorothy was so shocked a wave of revulsion and guilt swept over her. She was no longer a virgin in God's eyes and the strange creatures had advantage of her innocence. Only she’d certainly never seen beings like this before in Kansas. Or heard about them. Neither had she ever known such green grass, or blue sky with yellow clouds. Wherever she looked, there was an explosion of vibrant colours. Blue hats, red shoes, a yellow brick road and bright white houses in the distances.

It all had to be a dream. She must be still on her bed in the little farmhouse in Kansas. Perhaps it was Toto she felt jumping on her, trying to wake her up.

“But you let us.” One of the creatures who was still wearing trousers muttered. There were fervent murmurs of agreement.

“I wasn't even awake,” Dorothy said. The creature between her legs was inching forward again, and she felt his man thing pressed against the lips of her sacred place. Pushing the skirts of her gingham dress down between her legs it helped shove him away. He started sobbing again.

“But you never said we couldn’t.” A bushy-haired creature pointed out.

“We thought you would be nice.”

“Especially because of what you did.”

“What did I do?” Dorothy asked.

“You killed our witch.” They all looked off to Dorothy's right.

Turning her head, she followed their gaze and saw her house, with its drab peeling paint and dull tiles perched among what looked like a patch apricot bushes with bright green leaves.

“Oh my.” Dorothy gasped as he eyed the two feet sticking out from under her house.


	3. Dorothy discovers Munchkins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothy starts to work out where she is and believing it to be dream allows her to relax a little and keep the strange orange creatures happy.

“I did that?” Dorothy could barely breathe.

“Yes, you killed her.” A Munchkin with no pants said.

“It made us very sad.” One of the others took off his hat and held it before him.

“We thought you wanted to make us happy.” A tall orange Munchkin did the same with his headgear. Dorothy didn’t understand why some of the others were giggling and nudging each other.

“And you were begging.” Added another.

“Begging?” Dorothy was getting more bewildered as they were all chattering while the one between her legs was still wailing.

“We asked if you wanted to, and you begged us.”

“Kept saying please.”

“I don't remember.” Dorothy turned her head back to the crowd of creatures stood around her. She didn't want to look at the legs sticking out from under the house anymore.

“We asked if we could all have a turn.”

“You never said no.”

“She said please.”

“Begging for it.”

“Said everybody should have a turn.” There was once again a chorus of agreement from all the small creatures around her.

“What even are you?" Dorothy tried to make herself heard above the hubbub. “I’ve not seen orange people like you before. You’re all so little, and yet you look like grownups.”

"Were Munchkins." They all said in unison.

“Well, I've never heard of Munchkins. At least not in Kansas."

“What’s Kansas?” Another of the Munchkins without any trousers asked.

“Where I live.” Dorothy was trying to make sense of everything. But it was almost impossible. Which is why it surely was a dream. Houses didn’t go around falling on people in Kansas. Even when there were twisters. “Where is this?”

"Why Munchkin land, of course." Three of them spoke as though it was obvious. But Dorothy never heard of a Munchkin land or a Munchkin, and she studied hard at school. There wasn’t a mention of small people with orange skin either.

“It has to be a dream,” Dorothy said out loud.

“It's like a dream to us.” More agreement among the Munchkins.

“A beautiful girl dropping from the sky.”

“A redheaded wonder to bring us luck.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” Dorothy asked. They nodded. “Even my hair?” She pulled one of her plaits and held it up.

Two Munchkins stooped and started stroking the frayed strawberry blond hair at the end.

“Especially the hair.” One of those without pants leant a little close as he spoke. His orange thing dangling over her head.

Dorothy thought this surely had to be a dream because nobody ever said that she was beautiful. And certainly, no one appreciated her hair. Despite the close proximity of the orange appendage, Dorothy considered it rude not to respond.

“Why thank you. It's very nice of you to say so.”

“Does this mean I can have my turn now?" The Munchkin between her legs said hopefully.

“I don't think so,” Dorothy replied, and tears rolled down his face again, making her feel bad.

“I told you she hates us.” Wailed the one at the back. “It’s my big ears.”

“My useless beard.”

“Because my cock is too small.” It was back to the one knelt between her raised thighs. “It’s just not fair.”

“She promised.”

“We should all get a turn.”

There was further agreement from the crowd about how it was pretty unfair the final three did not get their turn.

“I don't hate you at all.” Dorothy protested.

“Then why can't we have our turn like you promised.” Big nose demanded.

“I don't remember promising.” Dorothy closed her eyes and tried to recall everything that had happened. But before waking up in Munchkin land, there was only spinning around on her bed in the middle of the twister. She must've been knocked out while praying to God and begging for it to be okay. 

Was this some sort of test to see whether she was a good person or not?

“You did promise.” A Munchkin said. “It’s not nice to break promises.”

“Evil people break promises.”

“The wicked witch broke her promises.”

"Maybe she is evil."

"She lied to us."

“Maybe she’s a wicked witch too.”

There was a gasp, and a few of the Munchkins stepped back.

“I’m not evil." Dorothy objected. "And I’m certainly not a wicked witch. Or any sort of witch for that matter. And I don't think you've got big years or a stupid beard, or a small…"

“So I can have my turn like you promised?” The Munchkin between her legs looked extremely hopeful again and started pulling at her dress.

Dorothy was about to say no but saw the expectant looks on all the Munchkin faces. Had she really promised they could all have a turn at having sex with her? And it looks as though most of them had anyway. This had to be a dream, it couldn't be real. Maybe she needed to show she could keep her promises or something.

She closed her eyes again, wondering if this would all just go away. She felt her skirt being pushed back up, exposing her sacred place to the world once again.

There was the sound of somebody spitting as she felt something wet on the lips of a sacred place before a hard thing pushed inside her. It was fleshy and warm, and the saliva allowed it to slip into her without any unpleasantness. The Munchkin began to grind its hips against her, and she felt its Munchkin thing sliding deeper.

Dorothy opened her eyes and saw the orange fellow staring at her, his face a picture of effort and pleasure as he increased the rate of his thrusts. Then his face contorted in a startling look that frightened Dorothy for a moment, while at the same time, she felt a throbbing between her legs.

Something warm squirted inside her.

The Munchkin stood. His face a picture of ecstasy. “Thank you for my turn, pretty girl.”

He looked so pleased, and Dorothy actually felt good at making him happy, and the fact he was calling her a pretty girl. She was still processing what had happened when the older looking Munchkin with the wispy beard stepped between her legs and dropped his pants.

“I hope my cock wasn't too small.” The first munchkin said as he stepped aside.

“It was just perfect.” Was all Dorothy could think of saying. The beaming smile on his face made her feel she was doing the right thing. The wispy bearded Munchkin’s head popped down between her legs, and once more, her sacred place was spat upon.

“That’s a bit disgusting.” Dorothy cringed. “Do you have to spit on me.”

“So you don't get sore.” The Munchkin said, and once again, there were nods of agreement. “So the pretty girl doesn't get hurt. Because you weren’t getting wet yourself.”

“I see. That makes sense.” Dorothy wasn't sure it did. but didn't want to sound stupid. “My name is Dorothy by the way.”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” Three of the Munchkin sang in together. At the same time, the slightly larger wispy bearded Munchkin entered her sacred place and began his thrusting. Still, there was not of the pain the girls at her school often described, and it just felt more like a pleasurable tickle than anything else. She supposed the loss of her virginity had occurred while she wasn’t awake. Though of course, this being a dream it hadn’t really been lost and was probably why it didn’t hurt. She didn’t expect unpleasant things in her dream. Even if having sex with a Munchkin was a little icky.

There was another warm spurt inside her, and wispy beard was finished. The big-nosed Munchkin looked extremely excited as he almost fell on her trying to push down his pants with such haste. He also followed the ritual of spitting between her legs before thrusting his Munchkin thing inside her.

Dorothy's stomach growled. The Munchkins laughed.

“That was very rude of me,” Dorothy said as the big-nosed Munchkin pumped in and out of her. “But I do appear to be very thirsty and hungry.”

“Have some fruit." A Munchkin with a full beard vanished before appearing with a honey-coloured fruit.

She was handed what looked like an oversized apricot that smelled of honey. As she took a bite of the fruit, Dorothy was astonished by the wonderful juice that flowed between her lips and into her mouth. The taste was so sweet and incredibly refreshing. She couldn't help but suck more of the juice straight away, allowing it to flow down her throat and feel the warm tingling sensation all the way down to her stomach. There was an immediate sense of being revitalised.

“This tastes lovely.” Dorothy groaned with pleasure as her teeth bit into the soft skin of the fruit. Its succulent flesh seemed to melt in her mouth and filling her with an explosion of sweetness. “What is it?”

“Honey fruit.” The Munchkin nibbled on his one himself. “They grow in our fields, and we sell them in the city.”

“There is a city in Munchkin land?” Dorothy took another bite of the delicious fruit.

“No silly, I meant Emerald city.”

“Emerald City,” Dorothy said. “And it's not in Munchkin land?”

“No, Munchkin land is just one part of Oz. Emerald city is in the centre of all the different lands. But we have the best fruit."

“That's very true.” Dorothy was disappointed when she swallowed the last morsel of her Honey fruit. “Please may I have another one.”

Another of the perfect fruits appeared for her take, and Dorothy savoured the excellent taste of the most exquisite thing she had ever eaten. Her mouth was tingling with the sweet sensation, which also gave her belly a warm and fuzzy feeling.

It was a bizarre dream she was having, but at least this was very agreeable. As the final piece of the second fruit disappeared down her throat, she once more licked her fingers and wondered if it would be rude to ask for another. Aunt Emily said it wasn't polite to be greedy when she was a guest. But then if this was a dream maybe she could ask for one more.

She went to open her mouth when the Munchkin between her legs stood having squirted his Munchkin juice inside her.

There was a shout of distress from the other Munchkins.

“Hey, that's your second turn.”

Dorothy looked down between her legs expecting to see the big-nosed Munchkin. Only it was one of those with a blue bobble hat.

“That means we should all get another turn.”

“Oh my,” Dorothy said. “This is awkward.”


	4. The Munchkins take advantage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The orange chaps turn out to be very sneaky and underhand. Trapping Dorothy in a pinkie deal.

One of the Munchkins shouted in an even higher-pitched voice the normal. Dorothy glanced at the munchkin standing between her legs and saw it wasn't the one with the big ears. This one was taller and fatter with a big belly and no clothes. She had been so interested in eating the honey fruit she hadn’t noticed the sneaky creature had entered her while no one was looking.

“She didn't mind.” The munchkin said sheepishly as he backed away between the statues holding up Dorothy’s legs.

“You didn't ask.” Dorothy protested. She tried to move her feet again, but they were still stuck.

“I did, and you didn't say no.”

“I did hear him.” Said a small Munchkin who was just pulling on his trousers. “He was right after me.”

“But that means he's had two turns.” Red Hat complained. “I want two turns. It’s only fair.”

“We must be fair,” another added. “I want two turns as well.”

“Only fair.” There was complete unity amongst all the Munchkins on this point.

“But I don't want to anymore,” Dorothy said. “I’m tired now, and want to get my legs free and go to sleep.” The honey fruit seemed to have made her drowsy, and there was a pleasant tingling across her skin.

“You can sleep while we have our turns.” Suggested one of the Munchkins not wanting to be put off.

“You said we have to be fair. You said it wasn't fair when they hadn’t had their turns."

Dorothy had to admit they were right. It wasn't really fair that somebody got an extra turn.

“You let him have another go.”

Which again was true. She'd been so interested in eating the honey fruit she just let the Munchkin straight into her sacred place. But then again the honey fruit was very nice, and she couldn’t help thinking that she’d quite like another one. “But I don't want to be lying here anymore. I want to get up now.”

“We'll get you up when we’ve all had equal turns like you said.”

“Well, it is only fair.” Dorothy found herself saying. “And you promise you’ll let me up once you've all had equal goes.” The Munchkins nodded enthusiastically. “And can I have some more of that honey fruit.”

A large basket of honey fruit suddenly appeared in one of the Munchkins hands. He placed it by her side.

So if this was only a dream, Dorothy decided she might as well make it a pleasant dream munching on most wonderful fruit in the world while keeping the strange little creatures happy. The fruit was so delicious and made her so sleepy, Dorothy suspected she’d probably fall asleep and wake up in Kansas.

“So we have a deal then?” Dorothy said, trying a look all the Munchkins in the eye with confidence as they told her to do at school. She noticed quite a few of them, and they already seem to be removing their trousers in preparation.

“All have equal turns. Dorothy gets honey fruit, and we help you up when we're finished.”

“Pinkie deal.” One of the Munchkins leant forward, holding out his orange pinkie finger. Dorothy hooked her finger around his and sealed the pinkie deal. Each munchkin insisted on doing the same.

There was then a great deal of jostling as the Munchkins were eagerly queueing to take their turn. As the first one stepped up with some honey fruit juice dripping down his chin, Dorothy reached into the basket and plucked her third one from the pile, sinking her teeth into the flesh as she felt the Munchkin thing slide into her sacred place. The Munchkin gave a satisfied groan as it began to thrust into her, his compact munchkin balls bouncing off her bare skin as he thrust as deep as he could.

Dorothy moaned too, as the succulent honey fruit juices danced across her taste buds, giving her a warm ripple of pleasure descending to her stomach. There was a grunt from the Munchkin, his body tensing as the small fleshy Munchkin thing inside her throbbed and squirted its warm fluid. The Munchkin then rolled under her raised legs as another in the queue entered her, so she was once again being pounded by the strange little creatures and their oversized Munchkin things. Dorothy couldn't help but get all dreamy with the sweet taste of the honey fruit and the tingling in her belly. Both when she sucked down the fruit and when each of the Munchkins unloaded inside her. It was a dream she was going to remember for a very long time.

Dorothy closed her eyes, letting the body of a fourth fruit melt in her mouth.

“You've just pushed ahead.”

“That was my brother..” The munchkin climbing off Dorothy said.

“Wait no, I’ve not been yet.”

Dorothy opened her eyes and frowned as she saw two Munchkins that looked exactly the same. She wondered for a minute whether she was seeing double, but they were the only ones that were identical.

“That means you've had three goes.” The Munchkin with the red hat complained. “That's not fair.”

“I couldn't help it. She’s so pretty. I just want to keep doing her.”

“But we need three goes now.” The wispy bearded Munchkin said.

“Now hang on,” Dorothy interjected. “I didn't agree to this.”

“Equal turns was the deal.” One munchkin said, as usual, they all seemed to be in agreement. Dorothy tried to shake the drowsiness and recall the deal, and she did remember they didn't say how many goes, only equal goes.

“You made a pinkie deal.” The sounds of agreement made it sound as if it was a huge sin to break a pinkie deal.

“I had three goes we all get three goes.”

They all started chanting. “Equal goes, equal goes, equal goes.”

“Okay, okay,” she said. Dorothy could recall making the deal. “But please get on with it.” They seemed very keen on that suggestion.

But it was only a few turns later when there was yet another kerfuffle, and it turned out someone different got caught having an extra turn in the confusion. Which if course meant they all had four goes.

While Dorothy objected again, she realised there was no option but to keep her side of the deal and allow them to all have a fourth turn. She was surprised that she wasn't feeling extremely sore after so many of those strange little creatures had been thrusting inside her. Or that she wasn’t filled with whatever gunky stuff they were pumping into a body. She tried to organise them so no one could sneak to get another go out of turn. All while chomping on another delicious honey fruit.

But of course it happened again, and Dorothy began to suspect they were doing it on purpose to get more goes. And she was running out of fruit.

“Look, my special place can't take it anymore,” Dorothy said as they were now demanding the equal turns which would give them six goes each.

“But we have a deal.”

“Equal turns.”

“But you’re cheating.” Dorothy moaned. “And it’s starting to hurt.”

“I’ve got an idea.” It was the one with the wispy beard. "Here let me show you." He stepped between her legs and went on his knees, but this time, he spat into his hands, and Dorothy suddenly felt his fingers prizing apart her bottom cheeks.

"What is he doing." Dorothy felt her bottom tense up all of a sudden. The Munchkin poked his fingers right between her cheeks. He was wiggling away in a manner Dorothy felt both awkward but strangely pleasurable. She began to relax, and it was then the wispy bearded creature thrust his munchkin penis into Dorothy's bottom. She gasped at the feeling of the hard flash thrusting up that place, partly because she never heard of that happening and it had to be terribly wrong. The munchkin thing slid smoothly in and out of a bottom hole as it lifted her bum slightly off the floor before the familiar throb and the feel of his spunk inside her.

“There you go, that didn't hurt your sacred place did it.” He gently tapped the lips of a sacred place with his fingers as he pulled away.

“No, that didn't hurt.” She had to admit.

“That's it then. We can finish off our turns.” One of the Munchkins said.

“Wait. We all need seven goes now.”

“That really is true.” The blue-haired munchkin said. “Seven goes it is then.”

“No.” Dorothy moaned. But of course she was greeted with the equal goes chant and reminded about the pinkie deal, as well as offered another fruit.

Dorothy concentrated on the wonderful succulence as Munchkin after Munchkin stepped up and thrust their things into her bottom hole before squirting.

She desperately tried to keep them in the right places, so they couldn't sneak any extra goes, but they were doing their best trying to talk to her and distract her. Dorothy was actually worried she’d never get to leave. She noticed they were sloping off to eat honey fruit which seemed to restore their ability to make their things hard again.

It had reached ten goes each when Dorothy's bottom began to get very sore. She kept trying to will herself to wake up, as what was a pleasant dream was now becoming a nightmare as Munchkin after Munchkin drove themselves into her. Some going for her sacred place while others assaulted her bottom.

“Please stop. I’ve had enough now.” Dorothy pleaded in the sweetest voice as yet again the big-nosed Munchkin pounded her sacred place. Not one of them was even bothering to wear any trousers.

“The deal is a deal.” Big nose panted.

“I know, but this hurt so much,” Dorothy squeaked.

Big nose gave his usual grunt as he finished off inside of her, and almost immediately he was out of the way she had another Munchkin thing rammed into her bottom.

“Please stop.” She wailed, but they seem to have gone into an almost strange state as their friendliness vanished. They were all murmuring in a low chant about equal turns as if they were in some sort of trance.

“Munchkins. What do you think you're doing?”

Dorothy was startled by the new voice penetrating the Munchkin chanting. She strained to see where it was going from, and the Munchkin inside her fell backwards and scrambled away from her as quickly as he could.


	5. The Good Witch Helps

A tall woman gracefully strode onto the green where Dorothy was lying, and she was wearing a beautiful sparkling dress the reminded Dorothy of the ballroom gowns that she'd seen on TV when she was allowed to watch. As she stepped up towards Dorothy, the munchkins dived for cover. Some quivered behind the statue's legs while others cowered the other side of a row of bushes. Dorothy didn’t think they’d found particularly good hiding places as there were orange appendages poking through the leaves. And some of them looked as if they were Munchkin rude parts.

The woman, with thick masses of curly blonde hair around a perfect oval face, looked down on Dorothy with sympathetic blue eyes. “And who may you be?”

“I’m Dorothy from Kansas,” Dorothy sniffed. “I think I'm dreaming. It was a nice dream, but then it started to hurt, and I don't like it anymore.”

“What have you got to say for yourself Munchkins?” The woman spoke with a stern but not an unpleasant voice. “Come out where I can see you.”

The Munchkins appeared from their different hiding places. All came out with their heads bowed and those with hats were holding them. Dorothy could see they at least had the trousers back on.

“She killed the witch,” the munchkin with the wispy beard pointed towards Dorothy's house and the legs sticking out from underneath. Dorothy had forgotten about the person under her home, but it was the first time she'd heard about a possible witch. She became very scared they might accuse her of murder.

“Oh my,” the woman raised her hands to her mouth.

“Can somebody help me get my feet free please?” Dorothy asked in a polite voice. There was a better chance of her explaining what had happened if she wasn’t lying with her legs in the air, exposing her private regions to all and sundry.

The woman stepped over to the first statue, and it was almost with simple ease that she gently pressed on Dorothy's ankle, allowing the girl to pull her foot free.

“Your legs are not trapped, dear.” The woman said

Dorothy was confused, she was sure she tried to pull her legs out and hadn’t been able to. But then again, this whole land was very confusing. Attempting to release her other foot on her own, Dorothy found it easily came free.

She scrambled to her feet, brushing down her skirt's and glad to be covered. Wondering where her underwear had gone, she found herself guided over to the house by the woman. Dorothy cringed at the sight of the legs, clad in striped black and white tights and sticking out from underneath what used to be the back porch. Bright silver shoes sparkled on the unfortunate person’s feet. Dorothy began to feel a little sick.

"I didn't mean to hurt anyone,” she wailed. “I was just in the house, it wasn't my fault."

"Is it your house dear?” the woman asked.

Dorothy nodded.

“And she was flying the house.” One of the munchkins unhelpfully added.

The woman looked at Dorothy expectantly.

“Well I was in the house, and it was flying, but I wasn't really in control.”

“Sounds like careless flying to me.” A Munchkin put in. The others sniggered but went quiet with a stern look from the woman.

“Are you a powerful witch?” She asked.

“No ma’am,” Dorothy gave a little curtsy. “I’m just a girl from Kansas. I’m Dorothy Gale.”

“Well Dorothy Gale, you have done Munchkin land a great service. Hasn't she Munchkins?” The woman's gaze swept amongst the little orange men. They all nodded, though they did appear to be doing so a little sheepishly. “You see Dorothy this was the wicked witch of the East and she had enslaved Munchkin land many years ago, ordering these poor Munchkins about all their lives.”

The Munchkins nodded sombrely.

“And now they are free.”

“We thought she might be a witch too.” Red hatted Munchkin said.

“Because of her hair.” It was blue hat this time.

The woman rubbed Dorothy's plaits between her thumb and forefinger.

“It is exceptional hair,” she said. “There is nothing like this in all of Oz. But I don't think she's a witch. I think you have been very naughty to our visitor. You see Dorothy, you must be very careful with Munchkins, while they are very kind and docile folk, they are also very cunning and full of tricks and traps in what they say. You seem to have fallen for one or two of them.”

Dorothy nodded. “I think I have, but I I’m sure I’m having a dream and none of this is real.”

The woman threw back her head and laughed, letting go of Dorothy’s hair. “Oz is as real as any place.”

“I’ve never been to any place or many places.” Dorothy said sadly. “I’ve only ever been to Kansas and my uncle and aunt's farm. Oz does look really wonderful though.”

“It is. I am Glinda the witch of the North.” she held out a hand, but Dorothy hesitated on hearing she was a witch. “Now, don't worry.” Glinda gave a pretty smile. “I’m a good witch. The witches of the North and South are good. It is the witches of the West and the East who are wicked. But you have killed one of them now.”

Dorothy looked at the Munchkins for confirmation, and they nodded with smiles on their faces. She took the Glinda’s hand and shook it while performing another polite curtsy.

“Of course, when the wicked witch of the West finds out that you’ve killed her sister, she will come looking for you. I would suggest you get back to Kansas as soon as you can.”

“But I don't know how,” Dorothy said.

“Can't you fly your house back?” One of the Munchkins suggested.

Dorothy shook her head. “I don't know how to fly a house. I wasn't in control.”

There was muttering from among the Munchkins as they remembered what she’d said earlier.

“Then you will have to go and see the Wizard,” Glinda said confidently.

The Munchkins all nodded and murmured in unison, mutterings about the wizards and the Emerald City.

“How will I find this wizard? I don't know anything about Oz.”

“Well, you will find him in the Emerald City, and to find the Emerald City all you have to do is follow the Yellow Brick Road.” She pointed to Dorothy's feet as the girl saw they were already on a yellow brick road as it was by the side of the patch of ground where her house had landed.

“All I have to do is follow this to the Emerald City?” Dorothy asked. “That seems easy enough. Is it far?”

“It is a long way,” the witch said. “And you have to be careful of the woods, and of the wicked witch of the West.”

“Oh dear, it sounds very frightening.”

“But you've already killed a witch.” The wispy bearded munchkin said. “You can't be afraid of anything.”

Dorothy smiled at him and tried to appear confident.

“And you will have magic shoes,” Glinda said as if it was supposed to be obvious.

“Magic shoes?” Dorothy asked, and Glinda pointed to the silver shoes on the dead witch’s feet.

“You killed the witch, and now they belong to you.” Glinda flicked her hand, and Dorothy saw the shoes vanish from the feet of the wicked witch. The moment they had gone her legs shrivelled and disappeared underneath the house, while at the same moment Dorothy looked down at her own feet to see the silver shoes looking as if they’d been there all along.

“Oh my. What do these shoes do?”

“They do different things for each wearer. It is something you must find out for yourself on your journey.”

“Will you come with me to Emerald City?” she asked.

“I'm afraid I can't,” Glinda replied. “With the witch now gone in the East, there is a lot of work I need to do with the Munchkins to rebuild their land. They have suffered terribly and at last have a chance to live a good life thanks to you.”

“You could stay and be a queen,” said one of the Munchkins

“Yes, we need a new Queen.”

“And you are very beautiful. You would make a beautiful Queen.”

There was a lot of nodding and loud opinions about how pretty she was. The Munchkins appeared very appreciative of her loveliness. Dorothy blushed. Folk in Kansas never said she was beautiful or pretty. She was only ever called an ugly ginger runt. Once she’d been held down by the other kids at school while they tried to scrub off her freckles. They’d called them dirty and disgusting. She’d sobbed all the way home.

“And you did let us have lots of turns.” Again, the Munchkins murmured approvingly.

“That makes for a good queen.”

“It is very kind, but I really do need to get back to Kansas.” Though strangely, Dorothy wasn't sure why she needed to get back. So many of the people were had been cruel. But there was Toto of course, and Uncle Henry was nice most of the time. She needed to know if they were safe and if Dorothy wasn’t around, Aunt Em might get rid of Toto when he whined and barked because he couldn’t find his mistress.

And as this dream had to come to an end sometime, maybe it would do so when she found the Wizard.


	6. Mr and Mrs Boq

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothy needs a place to sleep. Mr and Mrs Boq like to share so it seems like the perfect arrangement.

The Munchkins gave Dorothy a handful of honey fruit for her journey, and she could finally retrieve her panties from the head of one of the Munchkins. He’d been trying to hide it under his hat.

Dorothy then bid them farewell with a kiss that involved all of them slipping their tiny tongues into her mouth. Though three Munchkins stood looking both upset and annoyed as others waved her off.

Glinda told Dorothy to ignore them and be on her way as she had a long day ahead of her. She tried to smile at the sad-looking Munchkins and blew them a kiss. One looked as if he was going to cry and turned away. Dorothy didn’t like it when anyone was upset, but she took the good witch’s advice and continued on her way.

Munching one of the honey fruit, Dorothy skipped along the yellow brick road feeling happy. As soon as the fruit hit her stomach all the soreness affecting her bottom and sacred place, vanished.

Oz was the most colourful place she’d ever seen. Even the yellow brick road itself shone brightly, and often there were white picket fences bordering the road. Hedges, their leaves a kaleidoscope of greens, formed borders with the vast fields of wheat and corn, and strange vegetables Dorothy had never seen before. Occasionally she saw Munchkins either on the road or in their gardens. But most of them shied away looking at her nervously. Dorothy hoped the news of her helping Munchkinland would soon spread so people wouldn’t be afraid of her anymore.

By the time darkness began to fall, Dorothy had long finished all the honey fruit. Tiredness and hunger began to overwhelm her, and Dorothy grew concerned about where she would sleep.

There was a fork in the road. The yellow brick road carried on to the left while orange bricks marked the road to the right. In between the two possible ways forward, there was a small white cottage with a lovely front garden filled with fruit and vegetables. A Munchkin woman leaned over the gatepost smoking on a pipe.

“Hello, I’m Dorothy Gale,” Dorothy said, striding up to the gates and holding out her hand.

“The Dorothy who killed the Wicked Witch of the East?” The Munchkin woman took the pipe out of her mouth and blew bitter smelling smoke in Dorothy’s direction.

“Yes, that’s me.” Dorothy gave a little curtsey. She wondered how the woman seemed to know about her exploits so quickly. “I am looking for somewhere to stay for the night. Can you help me?”

“Well, we Munchkins like to share,” the woman said, “are you willing to share what we have?”

“That would be very kind of you,” Dorothy said. “I’m sorry I don’t know your name?”

“Mrs Boq,” the Munchkin woman said.

“That would be very kind of you, Mrs Boq, to let me share.”

“You can share our food, and you could share our house.”

“Do you have a bed I can sleep in?” Dorothy asked.

“Of course,” Mrs Boq nodded, “as long as you are happy to share what simple things we Boq’s have.”

“I’d be very grateful,” Dorothy said, “and if there is any cleaning or anything you want me to do, I can. I often helped my aunt Em and uncle Henry around the farm, and she had me doing a lot of cleaning.”

“That’s good to know,” Mrs Boq said, and she swung open the small gate allowing Dorothy to walk up the hard dirt path between the various beautifully coloured vegetables growing in the garden. Though as she walked past them, Dorothy was sure some of them were moving and looking at her. There was a heavenly smell, however, of sweet potato and fresh bread which made her stomach growl with anticipation of a possible feast.

Surely in a dream, she should be able to eat well.

Mrs Boq took her inside to where Mr Boq was cooking a wonderful evening meal. Fortunately, it turned out there was enough for Dorothy to eat as well. Sitting at the dining table was a little awkward as the Boq’s were even smaller than your average Munchkin. Though not in the waist department, Dorothy noticed. Which was not surprising considering the amount of food on the table for what Mr Boq had declared, was a light supper.

Dorothy tucked in as the Boq’s told her about sorry times under the wicked witch. The house only had one room with a fire and a cooking station in the centre, allowing the smoke to rise up through a central chimney. There only seemed to be one bed and Dorothy wondered if there might be a sofa around the other side of the cooking station she could sleep on. Dorothy yawned in the middle of one of Mrs Boq’s stories as she finished something which tasted like treacle pudding. She felt a little guilty for eating so much, but the meal was delicious, and she didn’t get to eat so well in Kansas.

“I’m dreadfully sorry,” Dorothy said, stifling another yawn. “That was very rude of me, but I’ve been walking all day, and I’m exhausted.” It was also pitch-black outside.

“That’s okay dear,” Mrs Boq said. “Let’s clear the table and then we can all go to bed. It’s getting late anyway.”

Dorothy yawned again. Mr Boq then yawned, and he rose from the table and walked off. Dorothy wasn’t sure if he’d is said a word throughout the meal. Mrs Boq didn’t really let many other people speak.

After Dorothy helped Mrs Boq tidy away and wash up the pots, she could hardly keep her eyes open. Blowing out most of the tall candles, Mrs Boq left one lit which she carried across to the bed.

“You can go in the middle Dorothy, so you don’t get pushed out.”

“I’m sorry.” Dorothy wasn’t sure she’d heard right. The bed was pushed up against the cream-coloured wall and Mr Boq was already under the covers. The candle illuminated his beaming smile, and it looked as though he pressed himself against the wall to make room.

“I told you we share,” Mrs Boq said patiently. “We share our food, our house and our bed.”

“Don’t you have another bed or sofa?” Dorothy asked politely. Though having seen all the small house now, she hadn’t spotted anywhere else she could sleep.

“No.” Mrs Boq sounded exasperated. “We only have one. That is why I asked you if you are happy to share. You said you were. Or were you lying so you could take advantage of us poor Munchkins?”

“No, no. I wasn’t lying,” Dorothy said, “I’m happy to share. It’s just I have got none of my nightgowns with me.”

“Oh, no need to worry about that.” Mrs Boq began unstrapping the top of her blue dress. “We sleep naked here, anyway.” A few minutes later, the dress was peeled off her Munchkin body to reveal huge drooping breasts that lay on an ample belly. Her underpants reached down to her knees, but they too were soon removed. “Come on, dear, I’m tired.”

Dorothy saw how dark it was outside, and there was the hoot of what sounded like a very strange owl. A howling wolf replied to the hoot, and Dorothy didn’t think it sensible to be outside and alone in the night. And she had agreed to share.

She reminded herself it was just a dream anyway, and she’d probably wake up back in her bed in Kansas. Maybe she wouldn’t even remember the strange things she’d got up to during the dream.

Dorothy undid the buttons on the front of the gingham dress. She then quickly pushed the straps down her shoulders before slipping it down her thighs and onto the floor. It felt very odd with a naked Mrs Boq watching on. After carefully folding the dress and placing it on the side, Dorothy unbuttoned her blouse. Conscious of her pert breasts being exposed, she quickly slid it off her arms, popped it on the side by her dress and removed her underwear

Moments later, she was climbing under the blanket and into bed with a naked orange Munchkin lying on his side and awaiting her. Dorothy found herself shuffled up against Mr Boq as his wife joined them before blowing out the candle and plunging the room into darkness.

“Now this is nice and cosy, isn’t it?” She said.


	7. An evening with Mr and Mrs Boq

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothy spends a strange night with the Munchkin couple.

Dorothy lay on her back. Pressed up to Mr Boq on one side while Mrs Boq lay facing her on the other. Despite the dark, she had the feeling the Munchkins were looking at her. Both their oversized bellies were squashed against her body, making it almost impossible for Dorothy to move her arms. She felt cocooned between them.

“Your skin is very smooth,” Mrs Boq said. “It’s the smoothest I’ve ever touched.”

Dorothy felt fingers pressed gently on her stomach. They moved around her belly button before it became clear Mrs Boq had placed her whole hand on Dorothy’s skin. Like the rest of the bodies pushed up against her nakedness, Mrs Boq’s touch was coarse, her skin calloused and rough. From what she could remember all the other Munchkins had been the same. Which was perhaps why her smooth skin was a novelty to Mrs Boq.

Dorothy felt the hand move onto her breast, and her breathing stopped for a moment. Mrs Boq continued her exploration of Dorothy’s person, squeezing gently on her tiny boobs.

“You really should try her, Mr Boq,” Mrs Boq said, “I’ve never felt anything so warm and soft.”

Almost immediately, her husband’s hand was rubbing up and down Dorothy’s thigh. He mumbled something about it being very nice which Dorothy thought was the first word she’d heard him speak.

Mrs Boq’s hands and fingers examined both Dorothy’s breasts, spending a considerable time fondling her perky nipples. She would give them a gentle pinch as she rubbed them between her forefinger and thumb. Dorothy felt frozen in place, conscious of her body’s reaction to Mrs Boq’s touch. Not only had her nipples hardened, but she could feel her heart thumping in her chest, and she was breathing a little faster.

Part of her wanted to push them both away. But something resisted. And strangely she found the hands groping her body both exciting and relaxing. Perhaps she would fall asleep and wake up back in a bed in Kansas. She hoped Toto was okay and not missing her.

Mrs Boq’s hand moved off her breasts and followed the contour of Dorothy’s neck. Cupping her cheeks before lightly running two fingers along the outline of her jaw. Down below, Mr Boq, having explored all of Dorothy’s thighs, pushed his fingers between legs that had been clamped together by the pressure of the two bodies on either side. Only now he forced them apart just enough to slide his fingers up and down her inner thigh.

As Mrs Boq turned her attention back to Dorothy’s breasts, Mr Boq’s fingers crept ever upwards. Dorothy panted with anticipation as he stopped short of her sacred place. She felt the press of his Munchkin thing into her side. She wanted to feel his touch. Only his fingers danced around the outside of her sacred place before roaming up her belly. His hands joined Mrs Boq’s in caressing Dorothy’s pert young breasts.

“I see you found her to these beauties,” Mrs Boq said. “They are very small but a delight to squeeze. What do you think of them husband?”

“Two tiny,” Mr Boq mumbled, but it didn’t stop his hand squeezing Dorothy’s nipples.

“Mr Boq likes a good size breast,” his wife announced. “Like mine.”

Dorothy felt self-conscious. Her boob size was yet something else that the boys used to tease her about, asking when they were likely to start growing again.

Mrs Boq’s hand then moved back down to her stomach, circling around Dorothy’s belly button before dancing on the lips of her sacred place. Dorothy moaned with unwanted anticipation. The Munchkin woman’s fingers parted the lips of Dorothy’s sacred place and began rubbing just inside.

“Oh my,” Mrs Boq’s exclaimed. “This feels perfect.” Her touch probed just inside Dorothy’s for a few moments before pressing even further in.

Dorothy felt her hips move and her back arch ever so slightly. Her body wanted to experience more of the sensuous touch. She felt the heat growing between her legs as Mrs Boq shuffled slightly, allowing her to push deeper.

But the Munchkin woman’s movements had also allowed her to kiss Dorothy’s breast before her mouth covered her nipple. Mrs Boq’s thick tongue roamed the outside, flicking Dorothy’s nipple back and forth until the girl gasped. Her whole body began to feel as if it was burning, filling her with an intense desire for more.

A small voice squeaked in her head she shouldn’t be feeling such erotic arousal. It was everything that Aunt Em had said was wrong, and that God would look down in anger and punish her. But at the same time it felt astonishingly exhilarating, and with their eyes closed in the dark room, Dorothy knew it had to be a crazy dream.

And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to wake up.

Mr Boq’s hand moved back down her side and onto her arm as he adjusted his own body slightly. His rough tough ran down her arm, and when it reached her soft hand, he guided her fingers around his munchkin thing. Mr Boq groaned as she squeezed the solid fleshy object, his hand guiding her up and down. The outer skin was rough on her hands, but Dorothy was fascinated by how hot it felt when her thumb brushed across the smooth bulbous top. His Munchkin body quivered each time she gave the smooth dome a squeeze.

Again, the voice chastised Dorothy. Filling her with shame and revulsion at touching a man’s sexual organ. But somehow this was different, because this wasn’t like the boys back in Kansas, whose behaviour Aunt Em continually condemned. She declared them terrible sinners, stating that even thinking about a boy’s penis should be treated by hours of Bible study and the plenty of switching.

But these weren’t boys from Kansas. They were Munchkins in her dream so it couldn’t be the same. Of course, she realised it might be some sort of test, and if so then she probably wasn’t doing very well.

As a second mouth circled her breast and two tongues toyed with her nipples, Dorothy quickly banished the doubting voice. Mrs Boq’s fingers continue to find their way deeper into her sacred region. Dorothy tried to move her legs further apart. While Mr Boq’s free hand returned to Dorothy’s thigh, Mrs Boq using a similar motion, freed Dorothy’s other hand and guided it between her Munchkin legs. At first Dorothy explored the course tufts of hair before Mrs Boq pushed Dorothy’s fingers into her sacred place. Dorothy used what was going on between her own legs to guide her actions inside Mrs Boq.

While she’d been concentrating on the heat coursing through her body and the wetness inside of the Munchkin lady, Dorothy then noticed Mr Boq’s free hand had reached the top of her thigh. His fingers pushed next to his wife’s as they too entered her sacred place. He pulled her lips further apart, so four fleshy digits from two different Munchkin’s rubbed the inside of her ever-moistening sex. Dorothy grew more excited, more breathless, more desperate for the hot feelings ripping through her body to continue. Her hand gripped Mr Boq’s thing tighter and moved up and down faster. Simultaneously, the other hand in Mrs Boq’s sacred probed deeper and with greater urgency. The couples tiny Munchkin’s hands touched places inside Dorothy making her squirm and squeal with delight. Her body arched, trying to push their hands deeper.

The voice returned. Ranting in her Aunt’s punishing voice about how wicked her thoughts were. How terrible a thing to be enjoyed even in a dream. But her body screamed with pleasure, and Dorothy knew she was building to something the other girls had called a climax. They’d described it as being one of the best feelings in the world, and it was clear to Dorothy this was something her body wanted even if the stupid voice told her it was wrong.

The sucking on her breasts got harder, the fingering deeper and more rapid. A few minutes later, Dorothy felt an explosion of warm pleasure inside her body, which flowed down into her sacred place. The Munchkin thing in her hand throbbed and hot thick liquid squirted onto Dorothy’s stomach. At the same time Mrs Boq arched her back, squeezing Dorothy between the two bodies even more as she gave a moan of pleasure.

The Munchkin couple lay their heads back down on the soft pillows and their hand’s left Dorothy’s body. The three of them panted as they recovered, and it wasn’t long before Dorothy heard the two creatures snoring either side of her. All she thought about the intense pleasure her body had just been through.

A wave of shame passed over her. The voice crying out in horror because she’d allowed her desires total freedom. Something which would condemn her to be a sinner in Aunt Em’s eyes. 

Yet Dorothy hoped if she woke in Kansas, she’d still remember what happened in the strange dream world of Oz. 


	8. Breakfast with the Boqs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothy wakes up in a strange house in a strange land with very strange people.

When Dorothy woke, she knew she wasn’t back in Kansas. Opening her eyes, the sun shone through the windows. Lying on her back and looking up at the ceiling of the Munchkin house, there was an-too-familiar feeling between her legs. Glancing down, she saw Mr Boq thrusting away into her sacred place. His head didn’t quite reach her boobs, but with each thrust he stuck out his tongue and stretched to lick one of them.

“Good morning,” Dorothy said, not really knowing what else to say. Mr Boq mumbled his own greeting while not breaking from the vigorous activity between her legs.

“I’m drawing a bath for you, dear.” Mrs Boq shouted from the central fireplace. “Then we’ll have some breakfast. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you, Mrs Boq,” Dorothy answered. She felt extremely refreshed and having fallen asleep, she hadn’t woken up at all during the night, despite the three of them being crammed into one bed.

“I’m making some honey toast. Do you like it?”

“I like honey fruit,” Dorothy said, “so I think I should like honey toast.”

Mr Boq’s body stiffened, and Dorothy felt his throbbing Munchkin thing squirt his special juice inside her. Then, and without so much as a thank you, he rolled out from between her legs and staggered across the kitchen towards Mrs Boq.

“Good morning, husband. Do you have a nice kiss for me?”

Mr Boq grunted and kissed his wife passionately on the lips. Dorothy clambered out of bed and trotted over to where she could see a tin bath filled with steaming water. There was a thick bar of soap on the floor beside it.

“You can get in dear. We like to get ourselves clean before breakfast, and as you’re the guest, you can have the water first.”

It struck Dorothy that sometimes the Munchkins lifestyle wasn’t too different from her farm in Kansas. They also shared bathwater, and she wondered if they had to draw their water from a well before heating it on the fire. Of course, many other Kansas teens had running water, but Aunt Em believed in doing things the old-fashioned way. Dorothy didn’t talk about it at school and was sometimes glad she couldn’t to invite friends to her house. They would surely see how she lived and tell everyone in the school.

Usually the last to get the water in Kansas, Dorothy considered it a treat to be able to bathe first. Peering at the steaming water there were none of the usual bits floating around. She didn’t have to sit in the cold water with her eyes closed, scrubbing as quickly as she might so she could get out of there.

The worst baths were when they let the farmhand, Hank, go before her. He’d always whisper in her ear before she climbed in that he’d done something disgusting in the water. Dorothy would use as much soap as possible; even if it meant, she got told off by aunt Em for waste. If that wasn’t bad enough, she knew that Hank would creep around the barn and occasionally peeping in so he could see her in the bath.

Dorothy stepped into the tin bath in the Munchkin’s house, and the water was boiling. It made her body tingle. Her soft white skin began turning pink as she sank into the tub. Marvelling at the feel of the almost scalding water on her body, she closed her eyes for a few minutes. The soap had a luscious rose scent, and Dorothy imagined she was a princess being pampered in the most luxurious way possible.

After enjoying the heat, Dorothy realised she’d better get on having the bath if the others would use the water after her. She opened her eyes and was startled to see Mr Boq on his knees at the side of the tub. He was holding the soap.

“My husband will help you get nice and clean while I finish my new dress.” Mrs Boq said from over the other side of the cottage.

Suddenly Dorothy’s bath wasn’t quite as enjoyable anymore. Mr Boq dipped the soap in the water and created a good lather on his hands before rubbing them over her body.

“We normally use a scrubbing brush, Dorothy, but with your soft skin, we thought it not proper.”

A middle-aged Munchkin rubbing her bare skin with his soapy hands probably wasn’t proper either, but Dorothy kept quiet. After all, they were different people with their own queer customs, and It wouldn’t do to be rude.

Mr Boq was gentle as he made sure that the soap on his hands explored every nook and cranny of Dorothy’s body. Getting her on her knees at one point and then bent over so his fingers could get into the crack of her bottom and between her legs. Mr Boq appeared very efficient in his body washing technique.

He indicated it was over by helping her out of the bath.

Mr Boq then climbed in and handed Dorothy the soap.

It was fairly obvious what he expected her to do. Being as thorough as she could, Dorothy made sure he was happy with her efforts. Once she’d finished Mrs Boq came over and climbed in. Dorothy washed the female Munchkin, fascinated with her large flat drooping boobs finding them weird and rubbery when she had to soak and wash them with her hands.

There didn’t seem to be any towels as Dorothy stood.

“If you sit at our garden table, Dorothy, the sun is lovely, and it will dry you out quickly. We will have breakfast there.”

Dorothy stepped out of the front door into a glorious day. Orange and yellow birds darted around the garden. Their voices warbled whenever they stopped, and sometimes Dorothy thought she could pick out words in their songs.

Insects of different sizes buzzed amongst the flowers and strange looking vegetables. One looked like a fly with a tiny human body. It hummed and started to buzz near her, seeming particularly interested in landing on her bare boobs. Dorothy stepped across a patch of fresh grass to a small bench and table set amid the beautiful flowers.

Sitting, Dorothy shook her head, trying to get it around the idea of sitting naked in a strange land and in a stranger’s home. While naughty and shameful, Dorothy also felt the tingles across her skin at the excitement of being nude outdoors. The light breeze stiffened her nipples, and warm sun-dried the moisture from the bath. The scent of jasmine, honey and soft roses tickled her nose and kept her in a wonderful dreamy state.

Now she knew going to sleep wouldn’t see her back in Kansas, Dorothy would have to step out again after breakfast and continue to follow the yellow brick road towards the Emerald City to find the Wizard. It reminded her of some of the stories she’d read, and she used to fall asleep. She wasn’t supposed to read them and used to have to sneak them home from school, so aunt Em didn’t find them. Once when aunt Em had found one of the story magazines, she’d rolled it up and used it to beat Dorothy on her bare bottom in the middle of the yard right in front of Hank and the two other farm helps that day.

Then she’d been sent to bed with no supper, and Dorothy’s sobbed into her pillow as much with the humiliation of the farmhands watching her spanking than with the pain it caused.

But like in the stories, Dorothy had to find a way to complete her quest to get to the wizard. At least the journey didn’t have any demons or monsters or other things wanting to kill her. In fact, most of the people she’d met so far were lovely. Though their fascination with her hair and body, especially the private places, had meant she’d ended up doing many of the things she’d been told were shameful.

To Dorothy, none of it seemed that bad. In fact, there were parts she considered very pleasurable indeed. Recalling her climax, the previous night, it felt every bit as good as some of the girls had talked about. Even if she had felt a little ashamed before she fell asleep. Of course, this was probably still the result of a bang on her head during the tornado, and some weird dream in which everything that she’d been told she wasn’t supposed to do tested her.

Though her willingness to take part in what the Munchkin’s wanted may not have been a good thing. She recalled, however, the Munchkins had already been using her body before she was awake. Plus, she’d always been told to be polite, don’t lie and keep your word, and she was doing that the best she could.

So, it was very confusing. If this was some sort of test, Dorothy didn’t know what she had to do to pass it. She sighed, flicking away another insect with the strangely human body buzzing towards her nipples. Test or no test, she at least had to find the wizard so she could get back home to Toto.

“Here we go. A fine breakfast.” Mrs Boq walked out of the house carrying a tray with hot, steaming drinks and piles of brown toast ladled with sweet honey. Mr Boq stepped out behind her with a tray of orange juice and honey fruit. Dorothy’s stomach began to growl, her mouth-watering at the sight of the honey toast.

She noticed they were both dressed in garments made out of material suspiciously similar to Dorothy’s blue and white gingham checked dress

“I see you noticed the new clothes?” Mrs Boq gave her a little twirl while Mr Boq grunted and sat down at the table. “The material on your dress feels absolutely lovely. I wish we could get our hands on more of that and I can make some adorable outfits for all the Munchkins in Munchkin land.

Dorothy raised her eyebrows in alarm. “Is that my dress?”

“Yes, dear isn’t it good when we share. Don’t you think I look divine?” Mrs Boq looked to Dorothy expectantly and wanting to be polite, the girl smiled and nodded. While it clearly didn’t suit the Munchkin woman at all, Dorothy’s tried to come to terms with her beautiful dress having been hacked to pieces.

“What am I going to wear?” Dorothy asked cautiously.

Mrs Boq gave a dismissive wave. “I’ve got plenty of things you can share. We’ll have a look after breakfast. Now tuck into the honey toast. I’ve made you some nice buns to take with you on your journey.”

Dorothy opened her mouth to complain about her dress, but then she remembered the discussion about sharing. After all, she’d slept in their house and shared their food, so it would be impolite to complain about a dress. She found it hard trying to make sense of it all because it all seemed so wrong and entirely fair at the same time.

Looking down at the delicious brown bread, dripping with melted butter and topped with golden honey, Dorothy decided she could at least eat well before finding something to wear.


	9. Three greedy Munchkins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back on the road Dorothy realises she's being followed.

Not long after breakfast Dorothy left the Boq’s house. She waved to them as they stood at the front door in their new Gingham tops and watched as she passed through the short gate into the garden. Closing the gate behind her and holding a basket in one hand, Dorothy tried to readjust the light blue dress she was wearing. Mrs Boq had picked it out of her younger style wardrobe because it nearly matched the colours Dorothy had been wearing before.

While it wasn’t a dreadful dress, because Munchkins are smaller, there wasn’t much of it. Dorothy could feel the gentle breeze whipping around her bare thigh, and she hoped it wouldn’t be so gusty because the skirt only just covered her panties. While in theory she could pull the dress down a little further. It meant her boobs would pop out as it only just covered her nipples as it was. There were two straps over her shoulders; she had to be very careful with the length to make sure she remained decent.

There were one or two other items she’d seen in the wardrobe Dorothy had suggested might be more appropriate. But Mrs Boq had insisted her lovely pale skin shouldn’t be hidden, and there didn’t seem to be any arguing with her.

After all, she was sharing.

Dorothy stepped back on to the yellow brick road to continue her journey towards Emerald City. It wasn’t long before she got used to the strange feeling of the air and sun on her skin as she walked out in the open and found that she liked it.

She smiled, thinking how outraged the Aunt Em would be if she saw Dorothy walking with so much flesh on display. Because it everything was part of the strange dream, it amused her to know her aunt and uncle would never find out what she’d been up to unless she told them. And Dorothy had already decided she would become very good at keeping secrets

She passed a few Munchkin travellers on the road that morning who gave her cheery waves and whistles. A few asked if they could touch her skin, offering her treats if she would let them. Dorothy found the attention flattering, and they all declared her beautiful and marvelled at the softness of her skin. They told her how wonderful it was she killed the wicked witch and wished her luck in getting home. If it weren’t for her dear dog Toto, Dorothy would have loved to have stayed in Oz and Munchkin land forever.

Though noticed someone seemed to be following her. Every time she looked around, a Munchkin body part would disappear behind a rock or tree. An action generally followed by some mutterings and giggling. After an hour of the strange game of hide and seek. Dorothy confronted them. If they wanted to speak to her, she was quite willing to. As there had been no one to talk to on the yellow brick road for a long while.

She walked past a field with a low wooden fence separating the yellow brick road from what looked like a field of corn. The golden ears looked big and ripe, swaying in the same gentle breeze that sent white clouds skittering across the deep blue sky. A ragged-looking scarecrow stood just inside the field. A crow sat on the straw figure’s floppy hat.

Hearing a noise behind her, Dorothy turned and saw Munchkin legs scuttling into the tall strands on the other side of the fence. She dumped the basket on the road and rushed to where she knew there were hiding.

The three Munchkins shrieked with alarm and fell back on their bottoms as she confronted them.

“Don’t hurt us, pretty girl,” one of them wailed.

“Don’t turn us into something horrible.”

“I don’t want to be a lizard.”

“Why would I turn you into a lizard?” Dorothy asked.

“Because you might be a witch.”

Dorothy recognised the munchkin who spoke. It was the gruesome looking one from the munchkin village. He had a scared look on his face and flapped his hands as if panicking. When she looked closer at the other two, they looked suspiciously familiar.

She knew it was naughty, but Dorothy decided to have some fun.

“Before I choose what sort of creature to turn you into,” Dorothy said, rubbing her chin with her fingers thoughtfully. “Tell me why you’re following me.”

The three Munchkins propped themselves up to their elbows, peering through the thick fronds of corn. They looked at each other before the ugly one responded.

“We missed out on a turn when the good witch came,” he said with a such a mournful look in his eyes Dorothy thought he would cry.

“Really?” Dorothy said, folding her arms. “After all the turns you had yesterday, you followed me all this way. Don’t you think that’s a little greedy?”

“Equal turns,” the smaller of the three Munchkins squeaked. He too looked as though he would start bawling.

“Not fair if we don’t get equal turns,” whimpered the third.

Dorothy was shocked, but at the same time fascinated by the munchkins because they seemed so intent on sharing and making everything equal. When she thought of back to home, some of the children lived in big houses with their parents and always had lots to eat or loads of lovely new clothes to wear. It would be nice if people shared their things in Kansas as much as they did in Munchkin land.

“You agreed,” the ugly one said.

“And we won’t take long,” the small one added.

“But I really have to get to Emerald City and meet the Wizard, so I can go home and see my dog.” Dorothy felt strangely guilty when she saw how sad her words made all three of them look.

“We haven’t been able to eat or sleep since you left Dorothy.” Ugly one spoke again. He definitely had a tear rolling down his misshapen cheek. “After all that time being ruled by the wicked witch, we thought things would be fair again.” He shook his head sadly and looked heartbroken.

“Oh dear, that is very sad.” Dorothy felt extremely guilty and wasn’t sure what to do.

Sensing a weakness in her dilemma, the three Munchkins jumped to their feet.

“Please, Miss Dorothy, make us feel better again.” The ugly one pressed up against her and Dorothy became very conscious of her bare legs and how little the skirt covered.

“You are so pretty Miss Dorothy; we can’t stop thinking about you.” The munchkin with a large stomach pushed himself against her thighs, his head just above her waist.

“You are the most beautiful girl we’ve ever seen, and we all agreed to equal turns.”

They all chanted equal turns again.

“I am sorry it didn’t work out like that,” she said. “You had lots of turns, but I suppose…”

“Please, Miss Dorothy.”

“Please, pretty girl.”

“I fear we might die if we don’t get our turns. It will break a heart so much.”

“Oh, that would just be so terrible,” Dorothy said. While she wouldn’t usually believe such a thing could happen, Oz was a peculiar land with witches, wizards and all sorts of other strangeness. She couldn’t bear to see any harm befall the three funny-looking creatures with fat faces and tears rolling down their orange cheeks.

“I suppose I could.” Just as Dorothy spoke, she realised they had already pulled her panties down to her knees, and Munchkin hands were probing her bottom and sacred place. “But I’ve just got this new dress, and I don’t want to get it dirty.”

“That’s okay, we know a way,” the smallest Munchkin said. “Over here.” They grabbed Dorothy’s hands and pulled her the through some of the corn, which was awkward until she’d slipped her panties off the rest of the way. They’d found a patch of clear ground just in front of the scarecrow. Two of the Munchkins dropped their caps onto the floor and bid her kneel on them.

“Oh, okay.” Dorothy popped her panties over one of the outstretched arms of the scarecrow and knelt, placing her knees on each of the caps with her hands out in front of her. “Are you sure this will work,” she said. But already there was a munchkin behind her.

On all fours, her skirt rode so high, her bottom and sacred place were fully exposed. Dorothy heard the familiar spitting of a Munchkin before short fingers rubbed against the lips of her sacred place. A few rubs later, a Munchkin thing slid inside her as the Munchkin hands grabbed the front of her thighs.

The creature drove into her as deep as it could, and as promised, it wasn’t long before he finished, and the next one took his turn. When the ugly one stepped up for his go, he rammed his Munchkin thing inside her; he reached forward and grabbed her plaits, using them to pull himself forward. Dorothy found it all a little bit demeaning, and at times painful but as he continually muttered about how wonderful and sexy she was, and how great it felt being insider her, so she let him do it for a short time it took him to finish.

More annoying was when they’d finished the three Munchkins shouted their thanks and scurried off through the corn and back homes. By the time Dorothy has got to her feet, they’d already vanished.

“Ungrateful things,” she muttered, wiping her hands clean.


	10. Scarecrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothy discovers someone had been watching her activities with the Munchkins. But at least she gains a new travelling companion.

“That was rude.” Dorothy muttered as she pulled her skirt down.

As she went to reach up to get her panties from the scarecrow, she saw a crow on top of the straw man’s head held her panties in its mouth.

“Hey, they’re mine.” Dorothy lunged forward, but the crow hopped onto the scarecrow’s arm. When she went to grab them again, the black bird moved back onto the scarecrow’s head. It made a sound as if it was laughing.

“Stop it, they’re mine. Give them back.”

The crow jumped onto the other arm, avoiding Dorothy before flying off into the sky and entirely out of the girl’s reach.

“Oh, no. That’s just horrid luck,” Dorothy slapped her thigh. She gave the scarecrow an annoyed glare. “And you’re not much of a scarecrow. That crow didn’t look scared at all.”

“I am not really a scarecrow.”

Dorothy was so shocked she stumbled back and fell against the corn, having to grab onto long yellow stems to avoid landing on her bottom. She looked around before peering back up at the scarecrow.

“Did you speak?”

“Who me?”

“Yes, you. But scarecrows can’t speak.”

“I told you, I’m not really a scarecrow. I’m only like this because the Wicked Witch of the East did this to me.”

“Wait,” Dorothy suddenly blushed. “Did you just see me? You know?”

“Yes, I saw it all.”

“Why don’t you say anything?”

“I thought it would be very impolite to interrupt.”

Dorothy nodded. It seemed like a good answer. “If you’re not a scarecrow, then what are you?”

“I am a Munchkin. When I’m not a scarecrow. Hopefully, the Witch will turn me back soon so I can be a Munchkin again.”

“But she can’t turn you back now,” Dorothy said. “The Wicked Witch is dead.”

“Dead?” Despite having a head which looked suspiciously like a grey Kansas turnip, the scarecrow’s face appeared alarmed.

“Yes, I killed her,” Dorothy said proudly. Her actions had been appreciated by everyone else she’d met in Munchkin land.

“Why did you do something silly like that?”

“Because she was wicked,” Dorothy said, confused his reply

“But now she can never turn me back,” the scarecrow wailed, “and I’ll be stuck like this for the rest of my life. I’m not even a good scarecrow. No one will want me in their fields.”

“Wait a minute.” Dorothy tried to think back to some of the stories she’d read. “Surely when the witch is dead, all her spells or curses are broken, and you should be free. That’s what happens in all the tales I’ve read about magic in other lands.”

“I don’t know about those places,” the scarecrow said sadly, “here in Oz the Witch herself has to remove the curse. If she’s dead, I’m doomed.”

“Oh, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” Dorothy felt awful. Then she had a bright idea. “I’m going to find the Wizard of Oz in Emerald City because he is all-powerful and can help me get back to my home. Maybe he can change you back.”

The scarecrow looked hopeful. “Well if anyone can, the wizard can. But why would he help a lonely scarecrow like me?”

“Why would he help a Kansas girl like me?” Dorothy said. “But we’ve at least got to try, and I have killed the Witch of the East and helped Oz, so he should be fair and return the favour.”

“But I’m stuck here on this poll.” He flapped his arms and legs.

“Here let me help.” Dorothy moved behind him and twisted a large peg on the wooden pole holding the scarecrow up. She then lifted him off the peg, surprised at his light weight as he felt like a giant raggedy doll. Placing him on the ground, the scarecrow windmilled his arms as he tried to stay steady on his feet.

Together, they made their way onto the yellow brick road and continued their journey.

The scarecrow man kept falling over. Dorothy helped him to his feet each time. She noticed he grabbed various parts of her body that became uncovered as it got steady again. Dorothy became acutely aware that she no longer wore any underwear, which meant every time her skirt rode up, she flashed her naked sacred place and bottom to all the world.

But at least the scarecrow seemed to get better at walking as the day went on.


	11. Dorothy meets a strange new fellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothy finds somewhere else to sleep. But who owns the cottage?

They carried on following the road through Munchkin land, and as the day drew on, they saw less and less Munchkin’s. A large forest loomed ahead of them which made the scarecrow nervous because he’d heard bad things about the dark wood. Sordid tales of foul creatures and monsters that lived in the forest. Though he didn’t know anybody who had been harmed.

Having eaten most of the food that Mrs Boq had given her, Dorothy was getting hungry again and wondered where they would sleep.

As soon as they entered the edge of the forest, the yellow brick road narrowed, and the night seemed to fall quicker. She saw a small cottage through the trees on the outskirts of the wood. A small path led away towards it, and she went to see if there was anybody home. When Dorothy reached the cottage, she knocked on the door, but no one answered. On trying the door, it swung open.

The cottage looked lived in. Possibly somebody had been there that morning. But there was no fire and Dorothy wondered where the occupants might be.

She went to the cupboard and found a jar of honey fruit jam and some bread and made herself something to eat. Scarecrow declared he didn’t need anything as he was full of straw. It turned out he didn’t sleep either. After waiting a long time for the owner to return, Dorothy grew tired. Night had fallen, and various spooky noises from the wood made the idea of journeying any further somewhat unpleasant.

Dorothy decided to lie on the hard but comfortable enough bed in the cottage. Climbing in, she pulled the covers over herself after telling scarecrow to wake her if he heard anything. He huddled on a chair next her bed and Dorothy couldn’t imagine he’d be of any use if there were monsters out in the forest.

She woke to weak sunlight streaming through the windows. The copious trees surrounding the cottage made the whole place much darker than the Boq’s home. The scarecrow sat perfectly still in the chair. It appeared no one had returned. And for Dorothy it was a relief to wake up in her strange dream without a Munchkin on top of her.

Climbing from the bed, Dorothy ate more bread and honey fruit jam, wishing she had some money to leave whoever owned the cottage. Sticking her head out of the back door, she heard a small stream bubbling through the forest. She needed to fill the water bottle Mrs Boq had given her, and to wash her face. Dorothy left the scarecrow in the chair after telling him she was going down to the stream. He waved a floppy hand and told her he didn’t much like water anyway.

Dorothy made her way down to the stream. Kneeling by the cheerful sounding brook, she used her hands to lap up some wonderful tasting freshwater before filling the water bottle. After taking a few minutes to wash her face and rub some water on her bare legs, she decided to go back to the scarecrow. Rising to her feet, she heard what appeared to be a squeaking noise just off to her left.

At first, it sounded like a mouse, but then she thought it seemed more metallic and took a few steps in its direction. Dorothy stopped as she saw a man, or possibly a robot, she couldn’t really tell because its limbs were made of tin. Even though the head seemed relatively normal, the skin was silver. She stepped into the clearing. Next to the tinman, there was a pile of logs and an axe as though he’d been chopping wood. Dorothy’s red shoes stood on and snapped a small twig. The tin man’s eyes flew open, but he didn’t move.

“Oh, my goodness, somebody to help.” he frowned and looked Dorothy up and down. “But who are you? Your skin is pale, your hair red. Are you evil? Do you want to sell me for parts?”

“I’m Dorothy, from Kansas,” Dorothy said and gave a little curtsy. “I’m not going to sell you for parts. Why would I do that?”

The man looked relieved, “Oh, thank goodness for that. But would you be willing to help me?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, I’m afraid I’ve seized up you see. I need oiling so all my bits and pieces can move, and they need fresh oil every day, and the old stuff taking out.” He looked towards an oil can resting on a rock out of his reach. “But I had a little trouble yesterday, and now I am stuck.”

“So, you need me to oil you,” Dorothy said. She went over to the can and picked it up.

“Well yes, but that’s only part of what I need.”

Dorothy used the oil can on some of his arm and shoulder joints, and soon the tin man could move his hands. Dorothy thought he looked a lot happier. Though he still couldn’t move his feet.

“But we need to clear the old oil out,” he said. “I’ve got a tube, but I think it’s blocked.”

He pointed his silvery fingers down between the top of his legs and Dorothy noticed a thick black tube just poking out from his tin groin. “I normally just pull this out and squeeze, and the old oil will come out. I use it on the fire. But when I was squeezing, nothing happened, and it stopped my legs from working. Then I couldn’t fetch the oil can.”

He tugged at the tube again, nothing happened.

“Let’s see if I can help.” Putting down the can, Dorothy knelt in front of the tin man and with her soft fingers took hold of the thick tube.

“You should be able to pull it out some more,” the tin man said.

Working the tube with her fingers she eventually pulled the rubber hose out, but it seemed she had to keep tugging to stop it going back in. When she squeezed, Dorothy couldn’t feel anything coming out.

“Something is blocking it, I think,” the tin man said. “If I don’t clear it, I could die and never get a chance to be turned back into a proper man.”

“What happened to you?” Dorothy said as she kept pulling on the black pipe, hoping if she massaged the rubbery tube it might help.

“All I wanted was to be with Marion, a Munchkin girl, but the Wicked Witch of the East forbid it. Every time I went to see my love, and she caught me, the Witch would use my axe to chop off an arm or leg.”

“Oh, that’s so horrid,” Dorothy said.

“Each time I went to the tinsmiths, and they gave me a new limb made of tin with gears and everything. Eventually, I ran out of limbs and the Witch chopped off my body, so I had to have a tin body too.” He bashed himself on the chest, and there was a hollow sound.

“I’m hoping one day the Wicked Witch will forgive me.”

Dorothy didn’t mention the fact the Wicked Witch was dead. Instead, she renewed her attempts to free up his blocked tube. She remembered watching Hank when a tractor engine failed to start because some muck had got into the diesel. He’d used a hose and sucked out the diesel, spitting on the floor until he’d eventually got the engine going again. While it looked pretty disgusting, it had worked.

Pulling the tube out as far as she could, Dorothy pushed her mouth forward, taking the tube between her lips and sucking as hard as possible. She thought she felt something give.

“I think that’s doing it,” The tin man said. “I already feeling better.”

Dorothy sucked even harder. The oil had gotten so thick it struggled to squeeze through the narrow tube. She worked the pipe more vigorously with her hand, trying to dislodge the blockage.

“Oh yes, that’s definitely working,” the tin man groaned. “I can feel it.”

Giving a final powerful suck, Dorothy felt the sludge from the tube as it exploded into her mouth. It tasted horrible, and she wanted to spit it out.

“Don’t stop; I need to get it all out quickly.” The tin man exclaimed.

Following his instructions, Dorothy kept pumping with her hand and allowing the thick sludge into her mouth. Trying to stop gagging, she had to swallow some so she could keep sucking. It seemed an age before finally the tin man gave a relieved moan and declared himself better.

Dorothy spat the last disgusting globs of black oil onto the grass.

The tin man whooped with delight at being able to move his legs once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are enjoying the strange adventure in Oz. Please leave a kudos if you are :)


	12. The dark forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasty things lurk in dark forests.

“That feels so good,” the tinman said. “Thank you very much, Dorothy, from Kansas.” He sat down on a half-chopped log, looking down at the oil can with a sad expression. “I need to get myself fixed or this will keep happening.”

“Who can fix you?” Dorothy rose to her feet. She used some of the water in her pouch to wash the foul taste out of her mouth.

“Well, the Wicked Witch could take off the curse, I suppose, but I’ll doubt she’ll do that. The tinsmiths in Emerald City might be able to fix me so I won’t block up all the time.”

“Well, I’m going to Emerald City so you could come with me,” Dorothy said brightly. She wanted to avoid the Wicked Witch being dead problem, hoping the Wizard of Oz would help the tinman and the scarecrow.

The tinman’s face lit up for a moment before becoming sad again. “I don’t think I can make it,” he said. “I’m broken, and it will be like this every day, which means I’ll seize up and won’t be able to walk.”

“If you come with me,” Dorothy said, “I’ll be able to clear you every day, won’t I?”

“Would you do that for me?” The tin man said hopefully.

“Of course,” Dorothy smiled. While it tasted disgusting, she could hardly leave him here seize up again. Plus, she felt guilty about killing his main hope of being restored to how he was before.

They went back to the tinman’s house and collected scarecrow before the three of them set off along the yellow brick road. The tinman said it would take them through the dark wood. He carried his axe, telling them he too had heard of monsters in the wood since the Wicked Witch had taken over Munchkin land. Few Munchkins had ventured through the forest since.

As soon as they entered the more densely wooded areas, Dorothy felt as if they were being watched. She kept glancing behind them but never saw anything other than heavy branches swaying gently in the breeze.

Dorothy soon became hungry, and the tinman helped her find nuts and berries safe to eat. It staved off hunger for a while as it would be a long time before they saw another house. The tinman pointed out some bugs and crawly creatures she could eat. They reminded her of big thick maggots, and it almost made her sick to think about eating them. Instead, she took another handful of berries with her that so she could nibble them on their way with some water.

The further they walked the gloomier the forest became. If the yellow of the bricks on the road looked darker. The air tasted dank and musty while animals howled and grunted all around them. The trees creaked, branches moving with their dark green leaves glowering menacingly at the small party. Dorothy thought the trees were frowning their disapproval at folk passing through the forest.

They walked deeper. Keeping close to each other as their sense of dread grew. Tinman kept shaking, the rattle of his limbs echoing through the wood. Some trees appeared to grow out of the yellow brick road as their branches intertwined with each other above the road, and gnarly roots pushed under the yellow bricks, creating obstacles the party had to step over. It felt as if the forest was gradually closing in on them.

“It never used to be like this,” the tinman said. The trees leaned closer, and it only seemed to be when he threatened them with his axe menacingly that they backed off.

“You mean the trees almost being alive,” Dorothy said. Looking around, she felt shivers down her spine, sure that eyes blinked in the trunks of some of the largest trees.

The Wicked Witch had cast a spell on the wood and cursed the trees, using them to block anybody who might come from Emerald City if she wanted to. It meant the good people of Oz couldn’t retake Munchkin land from the Witch.

“But if she’s not here anymore,” the scarecrow said, “Who is controlling them?”

The tinman looked around. “What do you mean?”

Before Dorothy could reply, an old woman’s voice shrieked Dorothy’s name. They all stopped and looked around. The tinman rattled uncontrollably, waving his axe at every shadow or tree limb. Some of the scarecrow’s straw began to tumble from under his brown trousers as his legs also shook.

“I don’t like this,” scarecrow said

“Maybe we should go back,” the tinman added.

When they look behind them, the trees had consumed the yellow brick road. Going back now seemed as bad as going forward. Movement caught Dorothy’s eye to her left. She looked around and was sure what looked like a branch with arms and legs had darted between the trees.

“Come on, let’s just get out of here.” She pushed the others forward, stepping over clump of thick roots and ducking low branches.

Once again, Dorothy thought she saw movement. Both sides of her now, and the sound of her name echoed around the wood once again.

“I really don’t like this,” the tinman said. His axe more shook than waved.

“They’re just trees,” Dorothy said, “even if they look a little bit scary. I mean what harm can they do?”

Dorothy felt something on her ankle. Looking down, she saw a root had sprouted thin brown tendrils that wrapped around her foot. She tried to pull them away, but they tightened their grip.

“Help me,” Dorothy shouted to the tinman. He stepped over and chopped through the thick root with his axe.

“Thank you.”

Having only moved a few yards further, another vine wrapped around her foot and Dorothy swayed, using the scarecrow to stay upright. The tinman tried to rush to help her, but a fat branch swung out from the closest tree and struck him on the back of his metal body. The tinman stumbled forward, tripping over a thick root before crashing face-first onto the road. His axe clattered onto the yellow bricks and out of reach

Dorothy bent down, trying to pull the vine from her ankles. Another tendril grabbed her left wrist and pulled her back upright.

“Scarecrow, can you help?” She shouted.

But the scarecrow had his own problems as another tree limb swung across the road and smashed him in the legs before pinning the floppy man down onto the yellow brick road.

Dorothy felt her other ankle caught and a second later, her final free hand was engulfed in small leafy tendrils yanking her arm away from her side, leaving her powerless. Her arms and legs were pulled apart, spread-eagling her in an upright position.

More tendrils shot from the nearest trees, their sharp tips slicing through the thin material of her blue dress before ripping it apart and only leaving her wearing the silver shoes.

Dorothy screamed as loud as she could. Hoping somebody nearby might help.

“I’ve got you now my pretty.” An evil laugh echoed around the forest. “So, you’re the one who killed my sister and stole her shoes.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Dorothy said. “It was an accident, and I didn’t steal the shoes, they just came to me.”

“Murderer!” The voice shouted. Dorothy strained to see the source of the sound, but it seemed to dart around among the trees. “But such a pretty one and such perfect skin.”

Two vines swarmed up Dorothy’s bare legs, squeezing and pinching until they halted at the top of her thighs.

“Hey, stop that,” Dorothy complained. “It’s not nice.”

“It wasn’t nice to kill my sister,” the Witch’s screeching voice continued to bounce around the forest. “I want those shoes, my pretty. Give me those shoes.”

“You can have the shoes.” Dorothy attempted to kick them off but was thwarted by the tight vines wrapped around her legs. “Please let me and my friends go. We just want to get to Emerald City and I want to go home.”

Two more branches snaked out for the trees that seemed ever closer and engulfed the silver shoes. A moment later, something forced each of the branches to curl away from the shoes before they both withered and died.

The tree the branches had come from shook violently and looked as though fists were forming from multiple limbs.

“Give me those shoes.” The voice shrieked again.

“I said you could have them.”

Two more branches and curled out from among the trees. Only this time they didn’t go for the shoes. One whipped Dorothy’s bottom. She screeched with pain as the second branch flicked out and struck her across her boobs. Causing even more agony, each branch delivered five quick strikes one after another, barely giving Dorothy time to breathe between each of the blows. Tears flowed down her cheeks. For the first time she really didn’t like this dream.

“I said you can have the shoes,” she wailed.

The branches dove towards the shoes again and attempted to take them. But the same thing happened, and now two pairs of tree limbs lay shrivelled on the floor never to move again.

They were replaced by two fatter branches that struck Dorothy’s exposed bottom and breasts. She screamed out as immense agony tore across her body.

“Please stop doing this to me,” she sobbed. “I don’t know why the shoes are doing that.”

Dorothy had never felt so much pain. Clamping her eyes shut, she tried to wake herself up from the horrible nightmare.


	13. Help Arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've taken a slight liberty her in naming the ugly Munchkin from previously. I will go back and update this in previous chapters when I get the chance

Once again, the branches tried to wrap themselves around her shoes and as before the silver shoes deflected them. The tree limbs withered to nothing. Dorothy saw more branches sprout from the trees towards her body. They were twice the size of the previous tree limbs, and Dorothy braced herself for excruciating agony.

A shout from behind her.

The forest seemed to shiver and pull back slightly as though in pain. Straining her neck, Dorothy twisted around and saw a flickering flame among some of the branches and roots far back along the road.

“Fire, fire,” someone shouted, and the trees crept further back from the road.

Dorothy yanked her arms down as hard as she could, and her slender wrists slipped the grip of the vines as if the concentration of the tree in charge was elsewhere. She tried the same with her legs, but the roots were thick around her ankle.

Dorothy saw the tinman’s axe lying on the floor in front of her. She fell onto her knees and stretched out, her fingertips grasping the handle. It took a few agonising moments before she could flick the wooden handle into her hand. Glancing behind again, Dorothy saw the fire gathering pace and heading towards them.

“Get them, get them all,” the Witch’s evil voice echoed around and gave the forest more confidence. More vines erupted from the trees and for a second time they looked to wrap around Dorothy’s wrists.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Dorothy shouted. Swinging the axe, she clipped off the end of the closest vine, and it drew back. Dorothy took the chance to hack at the roots trapping her legs. A screeching noise erupted from the trees as though they were screaming in pain. But Dorothy didn’t care if they were hurt, and having sliced through the roots to free one foot, she immediately smashed at the gnarly black roots pitting her other leg.

Another vine swooped towards her. Seeing it in the nick of time, Dorothy swept the small axe upwards and sliced it in two. The more the flames grew, the louder the witch screeched and cajoled the forest into doing her bidding.

In between the attacks, Dorothy hacked at the roots until her feet were completely free. Slashing at two more vines, she staggered across to the tinman and cleared the branches holding his body down before helping him to his feet.

The scarecrow sat among damaged branches and roots looking forlornly at empty trousers as most of the straw stuffing had been squeezed out. Dorothy scooped up as much straw as she could find scattered on the yellow bricks and thrust it down the waist of his trousers. She then lifted him to his feet and urged the tinman to follow her. With the scarecrow in one hand and the axe in the other Dorothy cleaved her way through the remaining branches and vines. Fortunately, the forest attacks appeared weaker and less frequent than before.

After about fifty strides, Dorothy’s arms and shoulders were exhausted, but she broke through the last of the dark tree’s branches and onto a clear section of the yellow brick road. The surrounding forest looked much friendlier as they continued to run as far as they could.

After a while, tinman cried for help, and Dorothy realised he was a few yards behind. Turning, she saw he’d seized up again, and only his arms and head could move. She stopped before trotting back to him. Dropping to the floor with the scarecrow, Dorothy took the chance to regain some breath and take a drink of water.

As the three recovered from their ordeal, they looked back to the dark forest and saw the fire had died down. The menacing trees having withdrawn into the deeper parts of the wood to lick their wounds.

However, another figure trundled down the yellow brick road towards them.

“Huggy,” Dorothy exclaimed as she saw the ugly munchkin sidle up to their party. His orange face was smeared in black, and it looked as if the fire had singed his clothes.

“Knew my crafting skills would come in handy,” Huggy said with a shy smile. “I told the others you’d need help, but they didn’t believe me.” The Munchkin had a broad grin on his ugly round face.

“That was you?” Dorothy said. “You started the fire?”

Huggy nodded, his eyes alternating between looking down at his feet and ogling Dorothy’s naked form. She suddenly became aware of her lack of clothes.

“You didn’t see my dress, did you?” Dorothy asked

Huggy shook his head. “Should I look?”

Dorothy peered back towards the gloomy forest. While the dark trees had retreated from the yellow brick road itself, she sensed an atmosphere of anger and hurt and didn’t fancy anybody’s chances of going back amongst those evil trees. “No, it’s okay,” she said. “But thank you so much for saving us, you’re a real hero.”

Dorothy knelt, and while conscious of her naked state, gave the Munchkin a big hug. Though when she went to kiss him, Huggy insisted it was on his lips, and he slipped his tongue in her mouth and reach around to squeeze her bare buttocks. Grateful for having been delivered from the horrific situation they’d been in, Dorothy allowed the munchkin a few moments of snogging her before she pulled away.

“I need to help the others,” she said. “Scarecrow’s stuffing needs putting right.”

Dorothy shuffled over to scarecrow who was desperately trying to rearrange the straw, so he had some decent legs again. Glad she’d scooped up most of the stuffing, Dorothy pushed her hands down his trousers and started shoving the straw down his legs. Huggy the Munchkin tugged it down further thus evening out scarecrow’s legs. Soon the straw man was almost as good as before.

Dorothy moved to tinman and discovered the same problem as before.

“I’m sorry. I think all the excitement and me falling was just too much for my system.” The tinman poked at the protruding rubber tube forlornly.

“That’s okay,” Dorothy said and proceeded once again to ease out the rubber tube and go to work sucking the thick goo out of the tinman so he would be free again. It seemed even harder this time, and Dorothy was acutely aware of Huggy watching her closely. Eventually, the tinman gave his usual groan at the final spurt of thick oil Dorothy could spit out.

“That looked nice,” Huggy said. “Can you do that for me?”

“That’s a vulgar thing to ask.” Dorothy gave the Munchkin a stern glare.

“But I saved you all.” Despite being hideous to look at, the Munchkin seemed capable of giving her some very mournful looks like Toto would when he’d been bad. And Dorothy had to admit that without his help, she would still be strung up naked between the trees being terribly beaten. Would the Witch have killed her? And what would have that meant if she was in a dream?

Maybe she would have woken up, but she once remembered hearing that if you died in a dream, then you would die in real life. Her bottom and breasts still stung from the whippings, and when she looked at her chest, they were laced with red welts too painful to touch. It scared Dorothy to think she could feel such pain in the strange dream, but then she supposed it would only be rational if she could feel pleasure too.

“But what about equal turns,” Dorothy said. Trying to turn the Munchkin’s arguments against him.

“This will be different. Just a blow job, not fucking. You’d just be sucking my cock.” As if in anticipation, Huggy unbuttoned the top of his trousers and released his already stiff Munchkin thing.

Dorothy winced at his crude language. Aunt Em would never allow her to say or even think about such disgusting words. She was always told that even if she thought about those words, God would know, and she’d be punished. Dorothy wondered if the trees had been punishing her for killing the Wicked Witch of the East. Or maybe for her other sins since she’d been in Oz. But she couldn’t understand if it was, because the death of the Witch was not her fault, and she’d been trying to be polite and courteous to everyone she’d met.

“Please, Dorothy, I saved you all.”

She eyed up his Munchkin thing and wondered what it would feel like in her mouth. She’d already felt it inside a sacred place, and she’d heard the other girls talking about blow jobs being sexy and weren’t really a sin. After all, this was a dream.

“Okay, but then we’ve got to get going,” Dorothy said. “I need to find some clothes.”

She didn’t need to shuffle over to Huggy because he was right over, straining on to his tiptoes as Dorothy lent down on her knees and allowed the end of his thick Munchkin thing to enter her mouth.

As the excitement wracked his body, Huggy grabbed Dorothy’s plaits and thrust himself further into her mouth until her lips slapped against his hairy balls. She sucked as hard as she could, and it only took a few minutes before warm liquid spurted against the back of Dorothy’s throat. It tasted sweet, a little bit like honey fruit, and she swallowed it down before licking the final few drops of the Munchkin thing.

The Munchkin let out a tremendous groan of pleasure as his thing wilted and dropped out of her mouth.


	14. The Lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothy encounters a lion in the forest

“Let’s see if we can get out of this forest,” Dorothy said, swallowing back the last of Huggy’s seed. Rising to her feet, she urged the others to continue their journey along the yellow brick road to see the Wizard of Oz.

They walked for several more hours, and Dorothy began to get very thirsty and hungry again. The burning feeling on her bottom and breasts where she’d been beaten wouldn’t seem to go away, though she tried not to mention it because the Munchkin kept offering to try and kiss it better. Once or twice, he managed to smack his lips on her bottom when Dorothy wasn’t paying attention.

In the end, they decided to move away from the yellow brick road to seek out an area of the forest where they might find a stream or a food source. While they’d been travelling the forest had seemed to get lighter and less foreboding, and Dorothy hoped it would be safe to explore.

But they’d only walked a few hundred feet through the undergrowth when they heard an almighty roar.

“A lion,” the tinman shouted in panic

“A big lion,” Huggy jumped behind Dorothy.

The tinman pointed over to where the sound came from, and ahead of them, Dorothy saw a huge golden lion perched on a rock beside a small river. The creature flicked out its tail and glanced in their direction. Dorothy’s group and the lion stared at each other before the line leapt off its rock and headed towards them.

“Run,” Huggy shouted, and not waiting for the others, the Munchkin turned and scampered back toward the yellow brick road. Dorothy realised this was good advice and urged the others to run too. She couldn’t imagine the lion doing much damage to the tinman or scarecrow, and as the creature bounded closer, she thought it would probably be more intent on a tasty morsel in the form of a naked girl. Pushing through low branches, Dorothy grabbed the axe back off the tinman and veered away from the others.

Running as fast as she could, Dorothy heard the panting of the lion close behind. The creature was clearly going to be on her any minute.

She turned around and waved the axe while giving a mighty war cry. Unfortunately, having stopped and span too quickly, her feet caught in the undergrowth and Dorothy fell onto her backside. The lion, having first been rather shocked at the small pink-skinned girl waving an axe and shouting like a fighter, pounced on her.

“Don’t eat me mister lion,” Dorothy pleaded. The axe had bounced out of reach.

“I don’t want to eat you,” the lion said. “Though I wouldn’t mind licking this lovely soft flesh.” The lion licked its lips, which meant bearing its ferocious-looking teeth.

“You’re a talking lion?” Dorothy said in surprise. She realised that she shouldn’t really be shocked at anything in Oz. If scarecrows could move and tinmen existed, then a talking lion was nothing special.

“You can understand me?” The lion looked surprised.

“Of course, I can.”

“But nobody can understand me.”

“Well I find people don’t understand me sometimes,” Dorothy said, feeling a little more hopeful that she wasn’t about to be eaten.

“I mean all the hear is my roar. Folk don’t understand my words.” If a lion could look puzzled, then Dorothy thought this one did.”

“What are you?” It sniffed at her belly.

“I am a Dorothy. Dorothy Gale from Kansas. Though I know most people don’t know where Kansas is.”

“Well Dorothy Gale, you have the best-looking and smelling skin I’ve seen since I’ve been a lion.” The golden creature licked his lips again. “The lion side of me thinks you look like a tasty morsel.”

Dorothy tried to shuffle back. “I’m not a tasty morsel, I’m a girl. Why did you become a lion?”

“I didn’t want to. The Wicked Witch changed me into one. She cursed me to be a lion for ten years. But that was fifteen years ago, and I don’t think she’s ever going to change me back.”

Dorothy swallowed. “I’m afraid I killed the Wicked Witch by accident.”

The lion gave a sigh. “Just my luck.”

“But we’re going to Emerald City to see the Wizard because he might help me find my way home. He’s also going to turn my friend the scarecrow back into a Munchkin, and help the tinman with his problems. Maybe the wizard could help you too.”

“I can’t anger the Witch anymore now she is dead. But if I go anywhere near Emerald City, they will send soldiers to kill me.” The Lion said. “That’s why I have to stay in these woods and live off the tiny creatures that I can catch and eat.”

“But you’ll have me with you,” Dorothy said. “And I can translate your roars. Surely it’s better than living in these horrible woods for the rest of your life?”

The lion looked around him with a thoughtful look on his face. “Why are you travelling naked?” He asked. “It makes you look most delicious.”

“The trees attacked us,” Dorothy said. “The Witch of the West is after my shoes. They ripped my clothes to shreds, and I’m hoping to get out of the forest and find some new ones.”

“Very wise,” the lion nodded solemnly. “Did they do that to your body?” He eyed her bare breasts and their red welts.

Suddenly conscious of her nudity again, Dorothy went to cover them up as she nodded. “They beat me with their branches.”

“I can help you,” the lion said. “My tongue may seem thick and rough it heals wounds. The only part of the old me that still works as I was a healer before the witch turned me into a lion. Folk would come to me to cure their ills. The Witch hated me for it when I started healing those she’d inflicted pain upon.”

“That’s horrid, especially when you were doing a nice thing,” Dorothy said.

“The Wicked Witches don’t like it when people do nice things,” the lion said. “Let me show you.”

Dorothy looked at the line with suspicion. “You’re not going to take a bite out of me, are you?” she said. “My boobies may not be big, but I don’t want you to nibble them off.” While he had a charming manner about him that reminded Dorothy of some of the gentlemen of the town, his rows of vicious-looking teeth made her wary of letting the lion too close. She glanced around for the axe. But it was too far out of reach.

“As delicious as your skin smells and looks,” the lion said, “I promise there will not be any teeth. Tongues only.” He stuck out a wide rubbery looking tongue. Dorothy didn’t see how it could help her, but then her boobs really hurt, and the lion could’ve eaten her at any moment if he really wanted to.

She moved her arms from in front of her bare breasts and pushed her shoulders up. “Please try.”

The lion’s dipped his golden head, and the tongue rode up the first of Dorothy’s boobs. She tensed, expecting the rough tongue to scrape painfully against her sensitive sores. But the tongue proved soft, and as its wetness licked over her breast and nipple, the pain immediately vanished. She looked down and saw her boob restored to normal, though embarrassingly the nipple appeared somewhat hard. The lion then licked her other boob, and in a moment, they were both milky white with a perfect cherry red nipples as before.

All the soreness had gone, leaving Dorothy with a strange sensation of wanting her breasts to have further attention.

“Why thank you, Mr lion,” she said. “Do you think you could do my bottom and perhaps?” Dorothy felt her face flush with embarrassment. “A little between my legs as they caught me there as well.”

“Of course, just turn over.”

Dorothy positioned herself on her hands and knees, thrusting her bottom up in the air towards the lion’s mouth and separating her thighs, hoping they would be wide enough for his tongue. She felt the thick wet tongue slide at the back of her thighs and across her bottom, the stinging pain miraculously disappearing.

“Leave her alone!” Huggy screamed, charging towards the lion with a stick.

“Don’t you dare eat her,” tinman shouted and creaked towards the fallen axe.

“She is our friend, you beast.” Scarecrow attempted to throw his own stick at the lion. It harmlessly whistled by and splashed into the river.

The lion’s tongue had just been running over her other bottom cheek, and Dorothy giggled to herself as she imagined it looked as though he was about to bite her entire backside off.

“It’s all right,” she panted. “Hess not going to eat me. He used to be a healer and is making my bottom better.”

“Don’t believe the beast,” Huggy shouted and bravely ran up to the lion. He prodded it with his stick. Not that it bothered the golden beast one little bit. He’d finished licking Dorothy’s bottom and had begun to work his tongue between her legs. She felt its rough moistness against the lips of her sacred place and moaned.

“It’s hurting her.” Huggy poked the lion again.

“Stop poking me.” The lion shouted.

All bar Dorothy simply heard a mighty roar and hurried backwards. Huggy tumbled on to the floor in a desperate attempt to getaway.

“He just wants you to stop,” Dorothy said, glad the lion had returned to licking between her legs. A pleasurable throbbing had replaced the soreness. Something sordid inside her wanted the tongue to explore deeper. “I can understand him and tell you what he says. He will not hurt us and needs to come with us to the Wizard and get changed back into the Healer he was.”

“I am not sure it’s a good idea to have a lion with us,” the scarecrow said. “I know he can’t hurt me, but what happens if he gets hungry?”

“He eats grubs and small things,” Dorothy said. “And we can’t just leave him here like this now the wicked witch is dead. You wouldn’t want me to leave any of you.” They shook their heads. “So, it’s only fair he has the same chance.”

She let out a long moan again as a spasm of pleasure pulsed between her legs. Her three companions looked on with suspicion, but the lion, much to Dorothy’s disappointment, moved away.

“That feels a lot better thank you very much, Mr lion.”

“You are welcome.”

“Is the river water good enough to drink because I’m so thirsty?” Dorothy climbed back onto her feet. “And hungry too. You don’t know if there’s any fruit or berries or something that we can eat?”

“The water is very nice,” the lion said, “and we might find you something to eat if you follow me.”


	15. A quiet night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party need to eat and rest. Though Huggy the Munchkin is very naughty.

“Come on,” Dorothy said. “If I don’t drink soon, I won’t be able to walk any further.”

The others still looked suspicious, especially the Munchkin who knew being fleshy probably meant the lion saw him as a tasty morsel. But Huggy was also thirsty and hungry, and neither did he want to wander around in the forest after what had happened. Especially if it meant being apart from Dorothy.

On reaching the small river, they found a pool and lapped up the cool refreshing water. Dorothy filled her water pouch before exploring the river bank for food. To her delight she found honey fruit bushes laden with delicious ripe produce. After eating her fill Dorothy slipped into the lovely fresh water of the pool. Giggling to a self about not having to get changed because she had no clothes anyway apart from slipping off the silver shoes.

None of the others went into the water. They sat on the side, watching her. Huggy happily munching on honey fruit as Dorothy hauled her naked wet body out of the water and lay on a small rock slab to dry out in what remained of the dwindling sun. She didn’t feel like moving on with an abundance of water and food so close, but Dorothy was concerned about how she would sleep as the ground was mainly forested undergrowth.

The lion came to the rescue, and by using a combination of moss and lying with her body against the side of the lion, she had his wonderful soft warm fur to snuggle into. Dorothy had only just settled for the night when Huggy came up and squeezed into the space between the lion’s legs and Dorothy. While not a problem at first, his hands seemed to keep finding their way from resting on her stomach to sliding up and fondling her small breasts. Dorothy would gently brush his arm out of the way until she eventually fell asleep.

She awoke to the familiar feeling of something hard and fleshy inside her. Dorothy opened her eyes to see Huggy grinding away between her legs with the usual strain on his face.

“Huggy, what are you doing?” Dorothy said in her sternest voice.

The Munchkin stopped and looked up at her. His sweaty expression turned to one of guilt and fear. “Please don’t chop my head off. I couldn’t help it. Your legs were open, and I asked, and you didn’t say no, and I saved your life yesterday, so please don’t kill me.”

“Why do you think I’d chop your head off,” Dorothy said, trying to make sense of everything the Munchkin had blurted out. “Although you deserve a good spanking.”

“I saw what you did to the trees with the axe. You were so fierce,” Huggy said. “And you faced down the lion, and you killed the Witch. I don’t want to die, pretty girl, I don’t want to die.”

“I’m not going to kill you Huggy.” Dorothy patted the terrified looking Munchkin on his misshapen head. “But I think you’re very rude. You could have waited until I was awake and asked me properly. And anyway, you had all your turns. Surely if you have an extra turn then if I ever go back to Munchkin land they’ll all want an extra turn too.”

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise,” Huggy said, looking relieved she wouldn’t chop him into pieces. “And I am here helping you.”

“That’s not the point.” Dorothy wagged her finger at him. “You should make sure you’ve got proper permission before doing something like this. Just because I’m a kind and my legs were open, it doesn’t mean to say that I want every passing Munchkin to stick their thing in my sacred place.”

“Sorry, Miss Dorothy, I’ll remember that next time. But please may I finish?”

Dorothy realised she’d had the entire conversation with the Munchkin’s thing still deep inside her.

“Well, I suppose I’ll never go back to Munchkin land again, so I won’t have to be giving out any more turns.”

“Oh, thank you pretty Dorothy.” Huggy started thrusting away again, and she felt his Munchkin thing sliding in and out of a sacred place even though she hadn’t actually said yes. But a few moments later, he tensed, and she felt a pleasurable hot liquid squirting inside her. As he clambered off her, she closed her eyes and allowed the warmth to spread throughout her belly. He snuggled back into the side of her after pulling up his trousers.

She opened her eyes again, drowsily seeing tinman and scarecrow propped up against tree trunks opposite. Both were seemingly out cold even though they didn’t really need sleep. Underneath her, the lion’s chest rose and fell as the creature snored, oblivious to what had just happened. While they were a bizarre bunch, Dorothy felt content as she ate another honey fruit, she’d made Huggy pick from the nearby bushes.

Dorothy felt like she had proper friends for once, and she was both helping them, and they were helping her. But it seemed like they had a long way to go before they reached the Emerald City and the Wizard of Oz.

After a long day walking through the forest, the trees eventually thinned out. When Dorothy or Huggy started to get tired, the lion offered them a ride on his back. Dorothy loved the feeling of his warm soft fur on her skin. Huggy needed more persuading as he was convinced the lion would turn around any moment and gobble him up.

Twice they stopped for Dorothy to service the tinman when his legs seized. But at least they didn’t come across anything intent on eating or scaring them. When finally, they emerged from the forest; they saw houses in the distance. The lion told Dorothy there was a river they had to cross, and the best place would be at a village with a ferry. Dorothy could see the yellow brick road stretching down to the village.

Out in the open, she became more aware of only wearing silver shoes.

While Dorothy didn’t fancy walking naked into the village, the lion also pointed out he should stay back for fear of scaring the locals. The houses loomed larger as the small group continue walking toward the village, unable to decide on the best approach to take.


	16. Mr Marvel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeing a caravan Dorothy approaches the owner for help.

“There’s a caravan just riding into the village now,” scarecrow said, waving his floppy hand in front of them. “Maybe we could ask them if they have any spare clothes. We might have to hurry to catch it though.”

“That’s a good idea,” Dorothy said. “Lion, you stay here with tinman. Me, Huggy and scarecrow will go to see them. If you can stand in front of me scarecrow, then maybe you can hide most of my body. Tinman, you better stay here in case you seize up again.”

The trio hurried along a lane that veered off the yellow brick road and caught up with the brightly coloured caravan being pulled by what looked like a cross between a donkey and a camel.

A round green roof covered the tall wooden vehicle which creaked along on four spoked wheels painted bright yellow. Dorothy read a sign on the side of the caravan which declared the owner to be Mr Marvel, the most marvellous magician in Oz.

“Excuse me, Mr Marvel, could I speak with you please?” They hadn’t entirely made it to the front of the caravan when Dorothy thought it would be a good idea to try to get the driver’s attention. The caravan continued its slow pace as an angular face with a trimmed, but very long black beard, peered around the corner of the wagon.

“A scarecrow with a girl’s voice wants to talk to me?” The man said.

“If you please, sir, I was wondering if you had any clothes you could spare. I was attacked in the forest and my clothes were shredded.”

“But you’re a scarecrow,” the marvellous magician looked confused, so Dorothy popped her head from out behind the scarecrow which also revealed her bare shoulders.

“Oh, my what a pretty girl you are,” the man said, raising his extremely black bushy eyebrows. He lifted his tall maroon hat revealing a bald head. “Naked you say?”

“Well, apart from shoes.” Dorothy stuck out a leg and flashed the silver shoes.

A curious look crossed the magician’s face for a moment before he went back to being extremely thoughtful. “And you want to know if I have any spare clothes you say?”

“Yes, please.”

“And you’re willing to pay for them, of course? Times have been hard you know.”

“Yes, of course, but we have got no money right now,” Dorothy said. It had been a problem they’d already discussed with regards trying to get passage on the ferry. Dorothy hoped some people would be very kind to them. She had, after all, met an awful lot of generous people so far, and one of them was a lion.

“So you are a pretty young girl who is completely naked apart from the silver shoes and who need some clothes, but you have got no money to pay for it?”

“And I’m called Dorothy by the way, from Kansas, which isn’t in Oz.”

Mr Marvel, the magician, started pulling at his beard as one of his hands had to keep holding the reins to continue the slow pace. “So you’re Dorothy from Kansas, a beautiful girl who is completely naked and in need of clothes but has no money?”

Dorothy wasn’t quite sure he felt the need to keep repeating the same words, but she nodded anyway.

“And where are you going naked Dorothy from Kansas?” he asked.

“I’m trying to get back to Kansas. So we need to get the ferry across the river to continue our journey along the yellow brick road. Then we can get to the Emerald City to see the Wizard of Oz and he might help me get home.”

“So Dorothy from Kansas, the beautiful naked girl with no money and who wants clothes, needs to cross the river so she can get to the Emerald City to see the great and mighty Wizard of Oz to go back home to Kansas?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And why are you are hiding behind a scarecrow?”

“Because I’m naked,” Dorothy answered, thinking Mr Marvel did not seem like a very smart man.

“Why don’t you just take the scarecrow’s clothes instead of hiding behind him.”

“Because I need them, sir,” scarecrow said. “Or all my stuffing will fall out.”

The magician finally stopped the cart. “My word. A talking scarecrow is an extraordinary travelling companion.”

“And me.” Huggy had been hiding directly behind Dorothy, a little too close as he’d pressed up against her bottom. He popped out the other side of the scarecrow from where Dorothy was leaning out, so she only showed her head and shoulders.

“A Munchkin too.”

“And a tinman and a lion,” Dorothy said. “But he is a very friendly lion and wasn’t always a lion. The Wicked Witch of the East turned him into a lion. Like she turned scarecrow into a scarecrow.”

“And tinman into tinman?” the magician said.

“Yes, that’s it,” Dorothy agreed. “So can you help us? We are hoping to go into the village, and I don’t really want everybody to see me naked.”

“No, no, I can see that,” Mr Marvel said very seriously. “I have some clothes that you might use to cover yourself. But you really need some money. How are you going to pay for all of you to cross on the ferry?”

“We don’t really know,” Dorothy said, trying to put on a sad and pleading face. “If I could borrow the clothes, I’d get them back to you. We will ask the ferryman very nicely.”

“Ha,” Mr Marvel said. “You’ve obviously never met the ferryman. He’s always raising his prices and certainly doesn’t let anyone cross for free. You need a way to earn money young naked Dorothy from Kansas.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” Dorothy said. “I’ve only just finished high school.”

“What is high school?” Mr Marvel then shook his head. “No matter. It happens I’m performing in the village tonight, and I don’t have an assistant. It could earn you enough for clothes and the passage for your friends across the ferry. Maybe get a bite to eat as well. You must work really hard though and be an excellent assistant. Do everything I say.”

“What would I have to do?” Dorothy asked. Being a magician’s assistant sounded quite interesting, but she was worried she wouldn’t be good enough.

“I do a magic act.” Mr Marvel produced flowers from beneath the sleeve of his blue robe with stars and moons all over it. Huggy gasped in astonishment. “A magician should always have a beautiful assistant who moves props around, and I make disappear. You look smart enough that you could do one or two of your own tricks.”

That sounded rather exciting to Dorothy, except for the bit where she might disappear. One time she’d seen a magician in her local town when she’d been allowed to go to the fair. She remembered him having a beautiful assistant who handed out sweets and treats to the children in the audience. It also made sense for them to earn some money so they could get across the river on the ferry.

“It sounds good Mr Marvel,” Dorothy said, “I think I’d like to be an assistant. I saw a magic show back in Kansas and I think I could do what his assistant did.”

Mr Marvel’s face lit up. “Well, that will make for a lot better show. Why don’t you come inside my caravan so we can agree the deal and get you some clothes?”

“Okay, Mr Marvel,” Dorothy smiled. There really were a lot of friendly people in Oz.


	17. Dancing for the Marvel's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While trying to secure some work, Dorothy dances for Mr Marvel and experiences some very strange sensations.

“Your friends can go and get your other friends so you can see the ferryman.” Mr Marvel steered the caravan off the road slightly and clambered down. He walked to the back of the wagon to a door built in amongst the red and green painted wooden boards. Opening the door, Mr Marvel lowered a little set of steps. Dorothy, the scarecrow and Huggy followed him to the rear of the caravan.

Mr Marvel indicated for Dorothy to climb the steps. She was reluctant as it meant stepping out from behind the scarecrow and revealing her young naked body for the first time.

“Come on, Dorothy, I haven’t got all day,” Mr Marvel waggled his bushy eyebrows. He was a short man, not much taller than the Munchkin’s. “I need time to make sure you’re going to be a good assistant.”

Dorothy moved out from behind the scarecrow and onto the steps leading to the caravan.

“Are you sure about this, Dorothy?” Huggy asked. “Would you like me to stay with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Dorothy replied. “You get lion and tinman and tell them we’ve got a way to get across the river.”

“That’s it, good naked girl,” Mr Marvel said, placing his hand on her bottom to encourage her inside his caravan. Almost immediately, he followed and closed the door behind him.

Inside the caravan it was warm and stuffy, smelling of slightly mouldy socks. Though otherwise clean and surprisingly spacious from how it looked on the outside. Mr Marvel stepped down one side of the narrow space and pushed open some shutters allowing more light in.

“Right let’s have a look at you. I need to see what size you are.” Mr Marvel pushed Dorothy’s hands down by her side and his wrinkled fingers lightly brushed up and down the side of her hips and thighs. “You might be the perfect assistant. Can you do anything interesting? Juggle, sing or maybe dance?” 

“I can dance a little,” Dorothy said, “and sing too.”

“Sing, you say,” Mr Marvel nodded. “I’ve not had an assistant who could sing. Let’s hear you.” He gathered his voluminous robes and sat himself on what looked like an old musty chair built into the side of the caravan.

Dorothy felt awkward as she usual sung while in the bath or working in the barn, and she didn’t really know many songs. It also felt very peculiar standing naked in the old man’s caravan trying to come up with a ditty to sing.

“Could I have something to wear, please?” Dorothy asked. There seemed to be enough piles of clothes like objects she could cover herself with.

“Let’s hear you sing first, Dorothy. I need to make sure you’re going to be a good assistant before I give my things away. Don’t you think that’s fair Mrs Marvel?” 

“Very much dear.” The reply came from towards the back of the caravan and startled Dorothy. She peered into the gloom and amongst what looked like a pile of worn clothes, she spotted an ancient and wrinkled face with a garish green and red scarf wrapped around her neck. Two withered hands rested on the old woman’s lap holding a small book.

“Dorothy, this is Mrs Marvel, my wife. While she’s normally my assistant, Mrs Marvel isn’t well today and not up to dancing on the stage.”

Dorothy thought it looked as though Mrs Marvel would never be up to dancing. But she bit her lip and kept silent.

“Maybe she needs some music to help,” the old woman croaked. Raising a shaking hand, her finger pointed to the side of the caravan.

“Yes, that’s what we need, music.” Mr Marvel stepped towards the direction of his wife’s gaze and picked up what Dorothy recognised to be a ukulele. “Maybe you can dance first. Warm you up.”

While Mr Marvel’s hands were almost as withered as his wife’s, they appeared remarkably nimble as he plucked away at the strings of the ukulele and a tune began to form. While it wasn’t one that Dorothy recognised, the catchy melody immediately imbued a rhythm in her body.

A strange sensation engulfed Dorothy. A crazy urge to dance despite the embarrassment of being naked in front of two strangers. Mrs Marvel raised her hands and remarkably began to clap a rapid beat while Mr Marvel tapped the floor with wooden shoes.

Dorothy found herself compelled to move by the rhythm, and her hips began to sway while her hands formed a myriad of shapes that felt natural. Dorothy’s silver shoes started floating across the rough brown carpet as the music cascaded through her body. The tempo increased, and Dorothy swayed left and right, sometimes going onto the tips of her toes while other moments she’d swoop low like a bird skimming across the fields.

Dorothy didn’t know when her fingers started caressing the lips of her a sacred place, or when her other hand began squeezing her nipples. She felt the heat inside her body intensify, and tingles of pleasure dance across the surface of her skin.

Soon Dorothy became oblivious to the caravan or the old couple. There was only the music and her body as she continued to writhe to the ever-increasing speed of the song. Squeezing her rock-hard nipples between her thumb and forefinger, stabs of pain caused her to gasp and moan. Her other hand probed inside her sacred place eliciting delicious sensations Dorothy never thought possible.

Heart hammering, Dorothy panted heavily as the beat became faster. Her fingers delved deeper, and her breathing became shallower as she thrust her hips and explored the moistness of her sacred place. As the music reached its crescendo, her body exploded with hot orgasmic pleasure. She felt the flow of juices from her sacred place dribble over her fingers and she screamed out with delight.

The music stopped.

A panting Dorothy became aware of being in the caravan with Mr and Mrs Marvel watching her. Her body still burned with the ecstatic feeling, but it was quickly replaced by a wave of shame. Pulling both hands quickly to her side, she felt the juices embarrassingly dripping down the inside of her thigh.

“I’m so sorry,” Dorothy stammered, not sure what else to say. “I think I should go.” The feeling of embarrassment was so acute she just wanted to head for the door. She tried to cover her private areas again, and had to resist the urge to touch herself.

“Nonsense, nonsense, Dorothy dear. That was perfect. Wonderful dancing that you say, Mrs Marvel?”

“One of the best dancers I’ve ever seen,” Mrs Marvel said. “And I’ve got just the perfect outfit for you to wear.”

“You hear that,” Mr Marvel said, standing up, so he was between Dorothy and the way out. He clapped his hands together. “We’ve got the clothes, and you’re guaranteed to make enough money to eat and get you and all your friends across the river. Isn’t that what you want?”

Dorothy nodded still trying to process what had happened.

“You’ve passed the audition for my assistant tonight.” Mr Marvel clapped his hands again. “Do you want the job?”

Dorothy nodded as she looked at the lovely sparkling silver dress that Mrs Marvel held. It even matched her shoes.

“Yes,” Dorothy said, still breathing hard after the exertion and keen to get dressed. Mr Marvel spat on his hands and held it out indicating Dorothy should do the same.

Just as she spat on her hand. Mr Marvel’s pulled his away and started stroking his bushy black beard with a thoughtful look on his face.

“You’ll be a good girl on stage, won’t you?” Mr Marvel said. “You’re not one of those girls who’ll pretend they’re going to work hard, but then won’t really do anything and embarrass me in front of the whole town.”

“No, I wouldn’t do that,” Dorothy said, “I work very hard.” It was only a little white lie because there were times when Aunt Em told her she was very lazy.

“What do you think Mrs Marvel?” Mr Marvel said, “Do you think she’s a girl of her word?”

Mrs Marvel gave a slow nod.

“I’ll be an excellent assistant. I promise,” Dorothy pleaded.

“And you’ll follow all my instructions on stage?” Mr Marvel continued his questioning. “I can’t have you suddenly not doing what I say in the middle of an act. For one, it could be dangerous as you don’t know the tricks very well. I don’t want the audience laughing at us because if people in the city were to hear that Mr Marvel did a terrible show, Mrs Marvel and I would never get to work again. It would ruin us. Do you was to ruin us, Dorothy?”

“I don’t want to ruin you,” Dorothy said. Though she started to feel a lot of pressure on her role as an assistant knowing if she messed up these two kindly old folks could find themselves destitute.

“It will be okay as long as you do exactly as I say on stage.”

Dorothy nodded that sounded sensible; she was also a little worried by the fact it could be dangerous.

“So, you agree as part of the deal to follow my stage instructions to the letter, so we’ll all be safe and have a good show? And in return, we’ll get you dressed, and you’ll earn enough money to get you and your friends across the ferry.”

“Deal,” Dorothy said, and they finally shook hands.


	18. Doing another Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While no one wants to travel on a ferry with the Lion, Dorothy manages to do a deal.

“That sounds good Mr Marvel,” Dorothy said, “but how long will it all take because we need to get across the river?”

Mr Marvel looked thoughtful again for a few moments. “The ferryman works late sometimes, and he also comes to the shows. I’m sure if you talk to him then you might be able to get a later ride for the right price. There’ll be folk wanting to cross after the show.”

Dorothy felt hopeful as she and her friends walked down to where the wooden ferry gently bobbed on the sparkling blue river. The yellow brick road stopped at the water, and clearly the flat long boat was the only way across.

Mr Marvel had given Dorothy her pay in advance, trusting she’d turn up for the show as promised. It felt good to be carrying a bag of enough Munchkin coins so they could cross the river and buy some food.

Wearing Mrs Marvel’s delightful silver dress also felt much better than walking around naked. Dorothy didn’t know what sort of material Mrs Marvel had made the dress from, but it was soft and smooth on her skin, hanging down from two silvery straps across her shoulders. Clinging to her petite figure, the dress reached down to Dorothy’s knees.

When the sunlight bounced off the shiny surface, the dress sparkled with a mesmerising silvery-green quality. Dorothy had done a few twirls for her friends, and the shimmering light seemed to dance around her body. Dorothy had seen other ladies wearing gorgeous dresses back in Kansas, daring items showing off their lower legs. But since Aunt Em considered them sluttish, Dorothy never thought she’d see the day when she would wear such an exquisite garment.

Huggy certainly approved. He kept rubbing the dress around her thighs and bottom, declaring it the softest cloth he’d ever fingered.

As they neared the town, the lion held back again so as not to scare anybody. This time the scarecrow and tinman stayed with him. Dorothy and Huggy approached a rather mean looking man leaning against the ferry and smoking a short brown pipe.

The ferry had recently docked, and a handful of Munchkin Folk hauling a wagon piled high with chairs trundled by. The lion and the Dorothy received equal shares of their attention as they passed by.

The ferryman had two boys as his assistants. They helped tie off the ferry before grabbing water pouches to slake their thirst. The ferryman turned as Dorothy approached. Obviously not a Munchkin, he had broad shoulders and a muscular bare torso rippling under the sunlight. He wore only tight breeches and Dorothy wondered what it would be like to run her fingers over those solid-looking stomach muscles. She caught herself as the ferryman glared at her. Mean looking black eyes peered out from his pockmarked face. Shaggy black hair hung down either side of his cheeks.

“What do you want?” He looked her up and down several times and while his eyes lingered on Dorothy’s body the most, she had a feeling he was looking more with disdain than any sort of appreciation.

“My friends and I need to get across the river,” Dorothy said. “How much would it be?”

“Do your friends include the lion?” The man spoke with a deep growling voice that sounded as though he was chewing on gravel.

Dorothy nodded.

“I don’t take lions. They scare the other passengers.” The ferryman moved to walk away.

“Oh please, Mr ferryman,” Dorothy said. “We can pay you.” She jogged bag of coins up and down in her hand. “He is a very friendly lion and has never eaten anybody in his life. We’re desperate to get across and get to Emerald City to see the Wizard of Oz so he can fix the wrong that has been done to these people.”

The ferryman looked her up and down again before staring at the lion.

“We could make a special trip. No other passengers. Be expensive though, probably cost you everything you’ve got in the bag, but we could make a way across now, couldn’t we boys?”

The two youths glanced up at the golden lion and then gave their boss a questioning look, but he didn’t need to say anything before they both nodded.

Dorothy thought for a moment. “Can cross later? I’ve agreed to be Mr Marvel’s assistant in the show tonight. He’s already paid me, but I won’t be finished till late.”

“Be mighty busy then,” one of the boys said.

The ferryman nodded. “You’re Mr Marvel’s assistant today?” He looked her up and down again. “We were thinking of going to that show. But the boys are right; afterwards it will be too busy, and there’s no way anyone will travel with a lion. They must go across now and you can meet them later. That would cost a bit extra too.”

Dorothy was already concerned about the price. “You can’t have everything we’ve got. We need some money for food.”

“Feisty little thing aren’t you?” the ferryman said. “Show me how much you’ve got.”

Dorothy opened the pouch, and the ferryman poked a finger around inside, adding up the value of the coins in his head. Dorothy had often heard Aunt Em talking about being careful with money and always drove a hard bargain. But Dorothy didn’t know how much any of the coins were worth.

“Not much here for what you want. But we might make a deal.”

Dorothy’s eyes brightened. 

“After the show, there’s usually a bit of music and dancing. Take a turn on the floor with me and my boys here and you got yourself a deal. You can keep this much for food.”

He took some coins out of the bag and placed them on Dorothy’s palm. 

She showed them to Huggy, who probably had the best idea of their value, and he nodded. “Enough for some good food.”

“Okay, Mr ferryman,” Dorothy said, “you’ve got yourself a deal.” She handed the few coins to Huggy before shaking the large hand of the ferryman and giving him the bag of coins.

Having made two deals on the same day, allowing them to eat and get across the river, Dorothy was feeling very pleased with herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you are still enjoying the story. Drop a Kudos or a comment if you are.


	19. The Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothy performs as part of Mr Marvel's show. But she has to reveal more than she expected.

Huggy tried insisting he stayed with Dorothy after the ferryman had said they all needed to go. But she gently persuaded the Munchkin, with a warm hug and a kiss, to cross the river and find some food to buy. She waved them across the river before trotting off to find Mr Marvel’s caravan so they could rehearse some of the magic acts she’d assist him with during the show.

Dorothy felt excited as the afternoon sped past. She’d wear the slinky silver dress for most of the show, which gave her tingles of anticipation at the thought of being dressed in something so sexy in front of an audience. Mr Marvel had instructed her on how to perform a quick-change act. He told her it was a popular part of his show which made her a little nervous. Though there didn’t seem much to the act as the clothes were designed to be worn on top of each other and easily ripped off. After mastering how each garment came away the quickest, Dorothy felt confident and even wondered about being able to perform the act back in Kansas if she made her own clothes.

Not that Aunt Em would ever approve.

Mr Marvel demonstrated other tricks she needed to assist him with. When he wanted to saw her in half, Dorothy had to move her legs out of the way, or when he made her vanish, she needed jump out the back of a false door of the box he put her in and run to another container as quickly as she could. He mentioned other acts they wouldn’t have time to practice, but if she followed his instructions it would all go well, and nobody would get hurt.

Mrs Marvel had spoken about knife throwing, only Dorothy didn’t think she’d be any good at throwing or juggling knives.

Evening fell, and by the time Dorothy walked out on the stage with Mr Marvel, a sold-out town hall audience of eager faces greeted them. They cheered noisily, adding whistles when Mr Marvel introduced Dorothy, and she gave a twirl in the sparkling silver dress. Though most of the audience sat in darkness, Dorothy could see a lot of Munchkins and tall thin people with a green tint to their skin. They looked vaguely like folk from back in Kansas, and Dorothy wondered if they came from Emerald City.

The enthusiasm of the audience helped calm Dorothy’s nerves. As the show began, she followed Mr Marvel’s directions to the letter. Managing to get her feet precisely positioned, so it appeared she’d been chopped in half which drew appreciative gasps from the crowd.

In many parts of the show, Dorothy just held various items for Mr Marvel, or basically looked pretty and smiled a lot, which pleased Dorothy because it meant she wasn’t likely to mess up and ruin Mr Marvel’s career as a showman.

When it came time for the quick-change act, Mr Marvel announced to the audience about how it was his new assistants first time while Dorothy rushed behind the curtain. Mrs Marvel, who seemed extremely mobile for her age, helped her quickly don the different outfits after removing the beautiful silver dress and hanging it up.

Mr Marvel called her to the stage. The first voluminous dress, topped off with a large pink frilly blouse, brushed along the wooden floor as she remembered the right place to stand and nervously prepared herself for the act.

Each time Dorothy needed to change, Mr Marvel had set up a scenario that covered the switch, such as whipping a curtain across in front of her, or having Dorothy run behind a barrier. She could then rip off one of the specially prepared dresses to reveal the one underneath. Each time the skirt would be shorter and the top smaller. The enraptured audience cheered at what they saw as a marvellous feat of quick change.

Eventually, it reached the point where Dorothy only wore a flimsy pastel green dress with a shimmering short skirt. In rehearsals it had been the final outfit. But Dorothy saw Mr Marvel preparing for another change.

“I have got nothing on underneath,” Dorothy whispered fiercely, thinking Mr Marvel must have made a mistake.

“Nonsense,” he replied. “You have the silver panties on.” He then immediately cast a smoke bomb that exploded in front of Dorothy and hid them both from the crowd’s gaze.

She felt his hands on the back of the dress as he tore it from her body and tossed it to Mrs Marvel through the black rear curtain. The smoke vanished and Mr Marvel stepped back. Dorothy stood wearing only her silver panties. She tried using her hands to cover her breasts as the audience hooted and roared their approval.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mr Marvel shouted, “Would you like to see one more quick change?”

Dorothy gave him a horrified look. The audience screamed their desire to see more. Mr Marvel’s hands flicked out, and there was a mighty flash and bang that almost deafened her. Before she knew what was happening, Dorothy found herself completely naked in front of the crowd.

“They love you,” Mr Marvel said as the audience continued to roar their approval.

Dorothy was about to flee the stage when Mr Marvel grabbed her arm.

“Remember, you did a deal naked Dorothy. You said you’d follow my instructions on stage. Now smile to the crowd like a good naked girl. But you can keep yourself covered if you want. It will make it even more exciting and tease them for later.”

He let go of her hand and stepped up to the front of the stage.

“The marvellous naked Dorothy from Kansas,” Mr Marvel declared. He then threw down another smoke bomb and indicated for Dorothy to hurry back behind the curtains while the crowd howled in frustration, demanding to see more. 

“Time for a break ladies and gentlefolk.” Mr Marvel made his voice heard above the hubbub. “But don’t worry. You will see plenty more of my wonderful assistant in the second part of tonight’s show.”

Dorothy felt utterly dejected about her inability to think through the deals she made. She’d never contemplated appearing naked in front of the crowd. Though the memory of the hoots and whistles sent not unpleasant chills down her spine. After years of being told how skinny she was, and how small her boobies were, she never thought there would be a time when she bared all for an audience.

And yet she couldn’t deny it felt good to know they were crying out to see more of her. They didn’t think her body was dreadful to look at. No-one in Oz did. Dorothy wondered if it was because of the strange dream that so many people thought her to be beautiful.

Mrs Marvel handed her a glass and told her to put the silver dress back on. The drink smelled of wine, and she knew she shouldn’t drink alcohol as Aunt Em would be mad at her. But it would be another of the many naughty acts Dorothy had done during her weird dream, and she didn’t have to tell Aunt Em anyway.

Dorothy gulped down the spicy red wine, enjoying the warm glow spreading through her tummy. A plate of food appeared, brought by a fat Munchkin who looked disappointed to see the young maiden dressed again. Dorothy devoured a lovely piece of meat pie and a thick hunk of bread, trying not to think about what might happen in the next part of the show.


	20. The naked assistant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr Marvel decides to cash in on his new assistant.

Mr Marvel clapped Dorothy on the back. “What a marvellous show. I see you’ve dressed. Though I hope you won’t be for long.” He muttered the last part under his breath. But she still heard.

“How do you mean?” Dorothy said, feeling concerned.

“It’s why I could give you so much money for the ferry,” Mr Marvel said. “We don’t get paid to do the show by the landlord here, we rely upon audience tips. Normally we get enough to scrape by and scratch a living from town to town. But other than Emerald City, where they are generous but there’s only so many shows you can do, we only get a few coins. But now your will help us get lots of tips.”

“Well, we better after what we’ve given her,” Mrs Marvel grumbled.

Dorothy was about to question them further when a shout indicating the crowd were ready for the second half attracted the old couple's attention. Mrs Marvel picked up the tips box and shuffled out to the front. Mr Marvel took in some deep breaths, brushing down his blue cloak and trousers while running his fingers through his beard.

Dorothy and Mr Marvel walked out to a cheering and whistling audience. Mr Marvel gave a short speech imploring them to be generous with their tips. Mrs Marvel moved amongst the tables of drinkers who seemed reluctant to part with their hard-earned coins. Though it appeared Mr Marvel had expected this.

A few of the males in the audience were making lewd comments towards Dorothy.

“Do you want to see more of my lovely assistant?” He hollered. The roars from an audience who’d recently topped up their drinks left Dorothy with no doubt of their desire.

“If you want Dorothy to do the rest of the show without her dress, then you will have to buy it. The dress will go to the highest bidder, who will also get the chance to come up and remove it from her body. Do I hear one silver piece?”

Suddenly there was a lot more interest from the audience and a lot more rattling of money pouches as folk started bidding. Dorothy felt a tightness in her stomach and wanted to rush off the stage. But she knew she didn’t really have anywhere to go, and she had made a deal with Mr Marvel and needed to earn money or poor Mrs Marvel would have nothing.

The bidding was brisk, and Mr Marvel seemed happy with the amount until he declared a final winner. A portly gentleman with a walking stick and light green skin limped through the gaggle of onlookers, making good time despite his obvious discomfort.

Dorothy gulped as he stepped behind her while his shaking hands slipped the straps off her shoulders and eased them down her arms. Taking his time, the man ensured each breast was freed before moving his hands onto the pert mounds for a good grope. The silver dress then slid easily over her hips and puddled around her ankles. Dorothy stepped aside so the green-skinned man could hold up the dress in triumph while she covered herself.

“What about the panties?” Came a cry from the audience.

“So, you want to bid for these as well?” Mr Marvel reached over to Dorothy and flicked the front of her panties with his wrinkled fingers so they snapped back against her skin. The reaction of the crowd left Dorothy under no illusion at what was about to happen next.

Fast and furious bidding began again. Small scuffles broke out as folk tried to claim they’d bid first. The bid amount rose quickly. Eager Munchkins and dirty men contemplating getting their hands on Dorothy’s body and peeling down her underwear.

For nearly all her life, Dorothy had been told she was too skinny or too ugly, that her ginger hair and freckles were a sign she wasn’t worthy. And yet the audience desperately bid to see more of her. Dorothy couldn’t quite believe the lusty looks even those not bidding gave her. They clearly desired her, desired to see her. Instead of feeling embarrassed. Dorothy felt proud and lowered her arms, turning to let the bidders see every part of the shiny silver underwear.

The price jumped again.

Eventually, the winner called out a price no-one would match, and a breathless, drunk Munchkin with short black hair staggered between the tables and chairs. The audience laughed as he had to be helped onto the stage. A few folks complained he’d bid so much he’d probably be homeless by the end of the week, but the winner didn’t care. Kneeling in front of Dorothy, the Munchkin gave a disgusting burp before hooking his thumbs under the waistband of her panties. He ripped them down to her knees and exposed Dorothy’s sacred place to the audience.

While the baying crowd cheered, the Munchkin suddenly grabbed her buttocks and pushed his face into her sacred area. She immediately felt his tongue probe between the soft lips while the audience roared with laughter. Dorothy tried to push him away, but the creature had her in such a tight grip she couldn’t move him. His tongue darted deeper inside her and began to lick the inner flesh of her sacred place.

Eventually, Mr Marvel intervened, clutching the Munchkin’s hair and hauling him back.

“You only paid for the underwear,” the magician growled. “Get off the stage.” The Munchkin found himself pushed off the stage by Mr Marvel. Dorothy was surprised by the old man’s strength, and the laughter of the onlookers was directed toward the Munchkin collapsed in a heap on the floor.

For a moment, Dorothy harboured hopes of pulling her panties back up. Hopes dashed as Mr Marvel himself pushed them down to the floor and she obediently stepped out of them.

“Hands by your side.” He hissed to Dorothy out of the corner of his mouth. She did as he told her, allowing the audience to have an unfettered view her nude body before Mr Marvel then handed her the underwear. “Throw them into the crowd.”

After he’d guided her to the front of the stage, Dorothy tossed her panties as far as she could and watched the ensuing melee as a gaggle of mainly Munchkin’s fought over them. The landlord sent two burly looking men with small clubs to break up the skirmish. While still feeling the indignity of tossing her underwear away, Mr Marvel turned Dorothy around to make sure the crowd had a good view of her pert behind.

Mr Marvel went on with the show, and Dorothy acted as his assistant once again.

Then, for the finale, Mrs Marvel pushed a large board with four straps onto the stage, and Mr Marvel produced half a dozen knives. While they hadn’t rehearsed this act, Dorothy had a sinking feeling she’d be the one strapped to the board.

Two audience members, a Munchkin and a very slender man with olive-green skin, were chosen and hurried onto the stage. Mr Marvel commanded Dorothy to stand in position against the black board. With her back flat against the device, her legs were spread so they could strap in her ankles. In her nude state, Dorothy felt incredibly exposed. Her arms were also strapped out to her sides, and another band was tightened around her belly making sure she couldn’t move during the performance.

Dorothy now realised why he said it could be dangerous on stage.

As the audience members went about strapping her in, the Munchkin brushed his hands over large areas of her body, including between her legs. Dorothy tried to ignore the deliberate groping and eventually the two audience members sat back down.

Mr Marvel made his dramatic announcements, declaring he would hurl knives at the naked damsel and everyone should stand back. He stabbed one blade through the sleeve of his robe to demonstrate its sharpness. Many of the watching patrons gasped before going silent. Though a rather merry band of Munchkins appeared too drunk to take any notice.

Dorothy felt her body tense as Mr Marvel stood back and prepared for his first throw. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead. His arm flicked out. Something slammed near Dorothy’s head, and she swivelled her eyes to see a knife sticking out of the board. The audience gave a huge cheer. The next one went the other side of her head, and two blade appeared either side of her body.

While the audience clapped, Dorothy became puzzled. She never felt the knife go past. Only hear the thud, and it was as if the knife had popped out of the board itself. After three more blades had landed around her body, Mr Marvel declared the grand finale.

They called one of the burly bouncers to the stage to test and fit a blindfold over Mr Marvel eyes. The large man then pointed the magician in the right direction to hurl his last knife

More sweat dripped down Dorothy’s brow.

The audience went silent, even the drunk Munchkins, as the old magician lined up his throw. His hand shook far too much for Dorothy’s liking.

Then Mr Marvel’s arm flicked out once again.

Dorothy felt the slam just below her sacred place. So close she could feel the edge of the blade against her skin. The audience went wild as Mr Marvel took a bow. They drew the curtain across Dorothy, hiding her from the audience.

Releasing the breath she’d held while anticipating the throw, Dorothy watched Mrs Marvel shuffle over to her and reach for the knife rubbing against her sacred place. Looking down, she noticed the old woman seemed to push the blade into the board rather than pull it out. Frowning, Dorothy saw she did the same with every knife.

“He didn’t throw them?” Dorothy asked.

Mrs Marvel laughed. “He can barely hold them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And spoil the fun.”

Mr Marvel moved back behind the curtain and helped to undo the straps holding the naked girl in place. Dorothy sighed with relief.

“We need to go out and bow to the crowd.” Mr Marvel took hold of her hand.

“Can I get dressed first?”

“I think they’d prefer you nude.”

Dorothy sighed again. This time with resignation. She knew Mr Marvel was probably right.

“And we have to do an encore. The crowd always love an encore.”

Dorothy didn’t know what an encore was. But before she could ask him, Mr Marvel had hauled her through the curtains and back in front of an audience banging their tankards on the table and demanding more.


	21. A special trick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorthy discovers a special trick she can do with her sacred place.

Mr Marvel announced one last special trick he’d been working on, and since he deemed Dorothy to have certain unique skills, the young assistant would help. Dorothy looked alarmed when the crowd cheered their approval, though Mr Marvel insisted the crowd added more donations to the tip bucket.

When Mrs Marvel nodded her satisfaction with the number of coins thrown her way, Mr Marvel turned Dorothy, so she faced the curtain and spread her feet. He then insisted she bend down and grab her ankles. There followed whistles from the crowd making Dorothy aware her bottom and sacred place were on full view. The audience surged forward to get a better look at the girl’s sex.

Mr Marvel told the crowd he’d discovered Dorothy had a great skill at keeping things inside her body, even moving them that will. It perplexed Dorothy, as he’d never mentioned or practised anything like he described.

He asked the audience for rings, and several folks offered different sized items, placing them in a small bowl Mrs Marvel had handed out. Meanwhile, Dorothy had to maintain her embarrassing position on the edge of the stage. Looking between her legs, she could see Munchkins and green skinned men shoving each other aside to get their faces as close as possible to the young beauty. The bouncers shuffled to the front, warning them off.

When Mr Marvel was ready, he bent down near Dorothy’s exposed nether regions and placed one ring on his index finger. Dorothy squeaked as the old magician then began to slide his finger inside her sacred place.

“Remember your promise.”

It was as though Mr Marvel could sense Dorothy about to run off the stage in fright. Reminding her of her obligations.

Dorothy gasped as his finger worked its way inside her. It appeared her minor arousal at being naked on the stage allowed enough lubrication for Mr Marvel to easily slide inside her sacred place. He then pulled out his finger and demonstrated to the crowd the ring had vanished. His revelation brought ooh and ahs from the appreciative audience.

Placing a second ring on his finger, Mr Marvel once again pushed inside Dorothy. She tried to work out what on earth had happened to the first ring as she couldn’t feel anything inside her. Well, except for Mr Marvel’s old finger wiggling in quite a rude but agreeable manner. Another cheer followed when he displayed another empty finger.

Next time Mr Marvel placed rings on two fingers. Both working their way into Dorothy’s tight sex, his fingers rubbing her sensitive areas vigorously. Despite the shame and embarrassment of having an old man’s fingers probing her sacred place while an audience watched, Dorothy’s body began to tingle with pleasurable sensations.

The two rings disappeared. The magician added two more to his fingers, and Mr Marvel’s more enthusiastic thrusting caused Dorothy to gasp. Waves of erotic arousal drenched her sacred region. Something she was sure she’d never had before. Dorothy felt her body going out of control as she grew dizzy with anticipation of further stimulation by Mr Marvel.

Once the two rings had disappeared, Mr Marvel stood up as audience members tried to peer up Dorothy’s exposed sacred region. Some of them pointed out they could see how wet she was. Though no one could see any of the rings.

Mr Marvel announced the jewellery needed to be readjusted inside Dorothy, and he had a special wand for the job. Mrs Marvel handed the old magician a short black rod about two feet long, and he proceeded to gently smack Dorothy on both butt cheeks before tapping her sacred place.

Mr Marvel turned to the crowd, pulling on his beard, before peering closely at Dorothy’s sacred region again.

“It appears the rings need more persuasion.” He stood, and this time slapped Dorothy hard on her bottom, making her jump and nearly fall over. Fortunately, Mrs Marvel had moved near her head and laid a withered hand on her shoulders to prevent Dorothy from tumbling over

“Stay still.” She whispered, “you need to stay perfectly still.”

Dorothy did her best, despite receiving further blows on her backside from Mr Marvel. He used his hand to give her a good slap and squeezed one of her perfect globes. While the first smack was painful, each one strangely enhanced intensely pleasurable feelings inside Dorothy. Adding to her complete confusion. When Aunt Em took Dorothy over her lap for a good spanking, they were always very painful. She could not remember a time when she hoped for more.

Dorothy decided it must be something to do with the dream which sometimes made pain as enjoyable as pleasure.

“It is now time to retrieve the rings.” Mr Marvel shouted to the crowd and used his arms to motion them for silence.

Dorothy could see the wand approaching her sacred place from her upside-down angle. She did not understand how he’d get any rings out because she still couldn’t feel anything inside her. With one hand Mr Marvel separated the lips of her sacred place and slid the wand inside.

Dorothy moaned, her body shuddering at the feeling of the smooth implement rubbing against her erogenous zones. The wand being narrow meant Mr Marvel could wiggle it about while saying the magic words which turned out to be.

“Pussy, pussy, I release you.”

Dorothy had no idea what cats had to do with a wand in her sacred place, but when Mr Marvel pulled it clear the crowd gasped and cheered.

“You can get up, dear.” Mrs Marvel said to Dorothy.

She pushed herself upright and turned to see the six rings attached to the end of the wand despite having not felt anything like a ring inside her sacred place.

The crowd cheered again, some of them tossing coins at the tips box Mrs Marvel had placed at the front of the stage.

After taking the applause, Mr and Mrs Marvel guided Dorothy back behind the curtain and seemed extremely pleased with the outcome.

“You were wonderful Dorothy,” Mr Marvel said. “One of the best assistants I’ve ever had.” A comment which earned him a glare from Mrs Marvel.

“Your dress is up there.” Mrs Marvel pointed to a trunk which held the clothes for the quick-change act. The dress was exactly like the silver one she’d been wearing at the start of the performance. Silver panties hung next to it too. Getting dressed, Dorothy then sat in the corner, completely confused by her feelings.

It had been disgustingly embarrassing having the magician fingers probing inside her sacred place while dozens of Munchkins and green skinned men watched. But Dorothy remembered the pleasurable feelings her body experienced. Even when she was being spanked. A part of her wanted more. Though she knew it was utterly wrong. Or was it in Oz

She could imagine the number of beatings and time extra chores she’d have to do if Aunt Em ever found out what she’d been doing. Especially, as Aunt Em always seemed to think she led on the men around their ranch. Surely it wasn’t right to be thinking about being violated in such a manner as something she would freely do again if she had the chance?

Dorothy helped Mr and Mrs Marvel pack some stuff away. The sound of music came from the main hall, and she remembered she’d also done a deal to dance with the ferryman and the two workers before they’d take her across the river.

Almost as if reading his mind, Mr Marvel spoke. “I think you’ve to join the party to see someone, don’t you, Dorothy? We’ll finish up here and I’ll be through very soon.”


	22. the after party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After her performance Dorothy finds out how wild the after party's can be.

Dorothy nodded and put the last of the quick-change clothes into the trunk which seemed to scrunch them up to nothing. She then headed through a doorway to the main room. Two musicians had taken to the stage, playing the flute and pipes. The tables had been cleared away to give room for folk to dance. The dancing didn’t seem too different from what Dorothy had once seen in a barn back in Kansas. Folk hopped up and down with the beat and would come together and swing around each other, sometimes doing so in a line. Everyone appeared to be having fun.

“Great show pretty girl. You deserve a drink.” Suddenly there was a flagon of ale thrust into her hand by a Munchkin couple, Dorothy thanked them, smiled, and began to drink. It tasted of apples but was very sweet, giving her that similar tingling feeling as honey fruit

Being dressed again and her body still warm and fuzzy around her middle, Dorothy lapped up the adoration, especially from the Munchkin’s, following her performance on stage. She thought about Huggy and the others and hoped they were okay.

“Have you seen the ferryman?” she asked the couple who looked pleased she’d taken their drink.

“On the dance floor, probably.” The Munchkin woman pointed to the mass of people near the stage.

Dorothy finished up her drink and moved towards the dance floor. The couple nearly barged her over as they’d decided they would join in and pushed her into the crowd. Dorothy tried to get on her tiptoes to peer above the tall green people to see the ferryman. Not being tall enough, she needed to wait until gaps opened as dancers swayed back and forth. Darting between the energetic Munchkin’s she could see over, and the green folk she couldn’t, Dorothy hoped to spot the ferryman. 

Sometimes she got squashed as the mass of dancers gyrated in time with the catchy tunes. Trapped by the weight of bodies, Dorothy found herself constantly scooped up by tall men and women who wanted to dance with her. Though the dancing seemed to comprise of rubbing themselves against her while their hands explored her body. Everyone would whisper in her ear, telling Dorothy what a beauty she was, though usually while trying to lift her skirt or fondle her breasts. 

The complements were delightful and the most wonderful thing about Oz. Dorothy had even grown used to the amount of groping she had to endure. It seemed rude to refuse when they told her that touching a red-haired girl would give them a year of good luck.

“Mr ferryman, there you are,” Dorothy said, tapping the large man’s back. He turned with rather a glazed expression. He looked down at the young girl and then Dorothy felt herself hoisted up, so a face was parallel with his.

“What a great show,” he said. “I didn’t realise you were such a sexy little minx.” He planted a sloppy kiss on her lips. “Wrap yourself around me and let’s dance.”

With her arms around his shoulders, Dorothy hooked her legs either side of his waist, realising it was probably an excellent way to avoid getting trodden on as the dancing got wilder and the music went faster. 

She held on as the ferryman continued stamping up and down and clapping his hands, forcing Dorothy to hold on tightly. He then grabbed her by the waist, peeling the teen off him as he spun around and lifted her high above his shoulders so she could see above the crowd. She had to apologise every time her silver shoes clattered one of the people near her. Exhilarated by the fast-spinning and the energy in the room, Dorothy wished the others could be with her to enjoy such a wild time.

The ferryman placed Dorothy back at his waist before his large hands pushed up her thighs and gripped her buttocks. The tall man’s pushed against Dorothy’s lips once more, his tongue urgently exploring the inside of her mouth. While it wasn’t exactly the type of dancing Dorothy had expected, she allowed him some freedom as she didn’t want to upset him, so he’d refuse to take her across the river.

Besides, it appeared the rest of the crowd on the dance floor were in tight embraces with plenty of kissing going on. Dorothy had only been to one barn dance in Kansas, and while the music could get pretty rapid, it hadn’t seemed quite as crazy.

A short while later, Dorothy found herself handed off to one of the younger workers and while not as tall as his boss, he encouraged her to take up the same position, keenly fondling the roundness of her bottom while his tongue probed the inside of her mouth. Feeling someone else grabbing her, Dorothy was startled to see the new admirer looked the same.

“Are you twins?” She shouted in his ear before his mouth engulfed hers. He didn’t bother answering, and Dorothy assumed they were. Both enjoyed grabbing handfuls of her backside.

The music changed, and Dorothy was placed back onto the floor between the three men. She recognised the sound of Mr Marvel’s ukulele starting another energetic tune. The crowd of dancers cheered before clapping their hands and stamping their feet in time with the beat.

Once again, Dorothy felt a warm rush through her body and almost without thinking her feet and hands clapped and stomped like the others. She felt the incredible energy coursing through the room as though they would be able to go on dancing forever.

Though the tune differed from the one she’d danced to in the caravan, Dorothy’s nipples hardened. Between her legs felt a rush of heat and an incredible desire to be penetrated. The three men had surrounded her. Occasionally their bodies would rub against Dorothy’s making the girl moan and grasp at their hot hard flesh. 

Dorothy’s hand brushed the front of the ferryman’s trousers, feeling the thick bulge within. A primal desire wanted to know how it would feel thrusting inside her. She turned towards him while one of the twins grabbed the hem of her short dress. Dorothy didn’t resist as the dress was hauled clean over her shoulders. 

She raised her arms, wiggling her hips and moving her body in time with the music. Rough hands flowed down Dorothy’s arms and groped her tiny boobs, squeezing hot nipples until she gasped with a combination of pain and pleasure. The hands swept down her stomach and hips, and a moment later, Dorothy felt her sacred place exposed to the world once again.

She carried on dancing as multiple hands touched and molested her body while the music continued. Around Dorothy, other couples were caught up in the throes of passion. Clothes were ripped off and discarded onto the dance floor. Something pressed up against her stomach and looking down to see the ferryman no longer wore any trousers. 

Instinctively Dorothy grabbed the solid flesh of his manhood, trying to wrap her small fingers around the thick base as she worked his man thing with both hands. After a few minutes, the ferryman once again lifted the red-haired girl off her feet by grabbing her bare buttocks. She wrapped her legs around his naked torso and waited for the kiss when the engorged head of his man thing pressed against her sacred place. She moaned with pleasure as he rubbed his cock against the lips of her sex.

“I want you inside me,” Dorothy screamed, hardly able to recognise herself speaking such lewd words. “I want you to fuck me.” Something deep inside her shouted at how much of a filthy whore she was being. Partly because they were words, she’d heard a woman yelling at Hank in the barn once. She hadn’t been sure what they’d been doing at the time, but now she knew.

The ferryman let go of her for a moment, and her sacred place being so wet, she slipped easily down his thick shaft. Dorothy felt her insides stretch to accommodate his width as another blend of pain and pleasure rippled through her body. She’d barely felt the Munchkin’s things when they’d fucked her, but this was something else. His length pierced her maidenhood. Something the Munchkin’s hadn’t been able to do.

Dorothy threw her head back and cried out, digging her fingernails deep into the ferryman’s neck. He lifted her again, and she felt the cock leave her sacred place. Dorothy wriggled beneath his grip, desperate to be filled once more. 

The ferryman eased her down, his throbbing shaft impaled deeper, causing even more pain as though something inside had burst. But the agony became outweighed by an incredible rush of delight filling her body. He pulled Dorothy down further and she screamed louder until his giant hands lifted her body.

From behind, a twin groped her boobs and tweaked her already solid nipples so hard she shrieked with a primal urge to consume every man around her. The ferryman slid her down until Dorothy’s bottom bumped against his groin, and his entire shaft penetrated deep within her sweet young body. When the Munchkins had been inside her, she’d felt tingles of pleasure when they’d squirted their Munchkin seed, but nothing had given her the ecstatic feeling she felt now. Dorothy had no idea she could gain so much ecstasy from an act her Aunt Em seemed to consider terribly despicable.

The music continued. The beat getting faster and faster until reaching its first crescendo. The solid cock throbbed inside Dorothy before she felt a simultaneous explosion inside her body. The gushing from the ferryman’s cock mixed with a burst of her own juices.

As the pace of the beat slackened for a few seconds, Dorothy panted heavily as she tried to recover. Closing her eyes and embracing the myriad of astonishing sensations engulfing her young soul.

A new musical number began. Slightly slower, but somehow even more sensual, and even as the Ferryman lifted her off his cock, Dorothy felt desperate for more.

Unwrapping her legs from around the large man, she found herself handed to the first of the brothers. Dorothy clung on to the younger man, snogging him hard, her tongue desperately exploring the inside his mouth while his hands groped every aspect of her lithe body.

Sweat glistened on Dorothy’s skin, warm liquid flowed down the inside of her thighs. Each tweak of her stiff nipples caused shivers of erotic pain and shudders of agonising pleasure. Then his manhood speared her sacred place. While not as big as the ferryman, Dorothy just wanted him inside her, shouting at him to fuck her hard and fast.

Something pressed up against her bottom. The bulbous tip of another cock. She glanced round to see the twin brother gripping her thighs as he began to thrust his slenderer member into her bum hole. Once again, she discovered the different size from the Munchkins hurt her body, and yet she felt so sexually responsive, relaxing as each thrust that widened her bottom hole, an extra wave ecstasy drenching her with the incredible feeling of two cocks penetrating her body at the same time. 

Both twins thrust in time with the music as the pace picked up. Once more the tune reached a crescendo, and the three entwined lovers came at precisely the same moment, eliciting intense screams of erotic delight from Dorothy.

She tumbled to the floor with the brothers. Another melody began, and Dorothy found herself lifted into the air as more cocks of men she’d never met entered her. Sometimes they only lasted one or two thrusts before someone else claimed her for themselves and another cock begin to fuck her. Some were lucky enough to climax and fill her with their seed, other times a fight would break out men desperately grappled and groped the red-haired teen.

Dorothy couldn’t take the waves of pleasure anymore. Everything went blurry. Her thoughts swam in an ocean of numbness until she found herself lost in a bizarre series of erotic visions. Eventually, she closed her eyes while men and women freely used her tender body. Dorothy slipped into a most pleasant and deep sleep.


	23. Back with her friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A calmer chapter as Dorothy rejoins her companions.

Dorothy flicked open her eyes.

Bright sunlight, beaming down from a clear blue sky, forced her to close them again.

For a few moments, the ginger haired teen remained still. Dorothy realised she was outside lying on the grass. Easing up her eyelids she used her hand as a shield from the worst of the sun. Looking down, Dorothy saw the lion’s shaggy mane pushed up between her legs. Its thick tongue licked her sacred place while soft fur tickled her inner thighs.

She grunted and pushed herself onto her elbows so the faces of the rest of the companions appeared.

“She’s awake, she’s awake.” Huggy hopped from foot to foot beside her. “Dorothy is okay.”

The lion stopped licking and looked up.

“Are you okay Dorothy,” he said. She assumed the look in his eyes was one of concern.

“I think so,” Dorothy replied, “but I don’t remember not being okay since we were last together. How did I get here?”

“The ferryman dropped you on the jetty on this side of the river,” the lion said. “We’d been waiting for you because we thought something terrible had happened. You were breathing, but we couldn’t wake you up, and much of your body looked extremely sore. You had red welts like you’d been pinched all over. What horrible things did they do to you?”

Dorothy closed her eyes and images of being surrounded by sweaty naked bodies filled her mind. She could almost feel the engorged male cocks penetrating her every private place. Though Dorothy knew her screaming hadn’t been because of pain, but moments of intense ecstasy that had rippled through her young body.

She groaned and felt a wave of shame, disgusted with behaviour which would have resulted in a good switching from Aunt Em. Even in a dream, Dorothy knew she shouldn’t act in such a self-indulgent manner. Though it had felt amazing.

“I’m thirsty and hungry,” she said, flicking open her eyes. Her stomach growled.

Huggy grabbed a water pouch and held it above her mouth so the water dribbled between her lips without Dorothy having to move. She gulped down the fresh liquid gratefully and when she’d satiated her thirst checked her body for injuries. Her skin looked as smooth and perfect as before.

“I took the liberty this morning,” the lion said, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Thank you very much,” Dorothy said. “I appear not to have any clothes again.”

“I have them.” Scarecrow held up a glittering dress identical to the one she’d worn when being an assistant. He also had a pair of small silver panties. “The ferryman dumped it on top of you when they dropped you off. They were very rude and wouldn’t tell us what happened.” 

“Thanks.” Dorothy plucked the clothes off Scarecrow and climbed to her feet. “But I don’t want to talk about it.” She stepped into the panties and pulled them up before wriggling back into the dress that shimmered with beautiful silver and gold colours.

“At least we can carry on towards the Emerald City,” Dorothy said.

“There is, of course, the usual problem,” Scarecrow muttered, pointing towards a sheepish -looking tin man stood perfectly still by the side of the yellow brick road.

“Of bother,” Dorothy sighed. She knelt in front of the Tin Man and went to work, extending his hose before squeezing and sucking on it to free up the blockage. She imagined it to be one of the many cocks that had been in her mouth the previous night. Pumping thick warm fluid that tasted like the sweetest nectar. Dorothy found her body reacting when the blocked oil sucked into her mouth. She swallowed it down and continued sucking until the Tin Man was completely free.

“I’ve got a problem too,” Huggy said, nodding to the front of his trousers which were displaying a large bulge for a Munchkin.

“I don’t think you really need me to deal with it,” Dorothy said in a stern voice. “It’s hardly a life or death situation for a Munchkin, is it?”

Huggy shuffled his feet. “No. But it is painful, and it’s so much better when you do it pretty Dorothy.”

She stepped over to the munchkin and knelt before him.

There was something about the way his ugly face scrunched up and his big eyes filled with tears that melted Dorothy’s heart. Neither could she hide the strange urge she felt to handle more cocks. She even liked the sound of the word. Reaching forward, she yanked Huggy’s trousers down and worked his cock with her hand while comparing its different, rougher feel with those she’d been subjected to the previous night. A few moments later, a milky orange liquid squirted from his Munchkin thing.

“Now can we get a move on,” Dorothy said, wiping her hands on the grass. “Mr lion, as I had such a tough night last night, is it possible I can ride you for a while?”

Mr lion raised his bushy eyebrows before nodding and allowing Dorothy to climb up onto his back.


	24. At the gates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suspicious of Dorothy, the guards insist on making sure she doesn't have any weapons.

With a long day of walking, Dorothy was especially grateful to be able to spend a lot of time riding on Mr Lion’s back. Twice they had to stop so she could relieve the Tin Man. Dorothy hoped the wizard could help him, or at least a tinsmith in Emerald City, as it was getting harder and harder to extract the blockages from him.

The moment they topped the crest of a lovely green hill, Dorothy’s breath was taken away by the glorious vision of Emerald City below them. If there was one thing you could say about Emerald City. It was green. The second thing Dorothy noted was that she’d never seen so many different shades of green in her life.

Numerous buildings and towers nestled within the vast city walls, glistening and glimmering as the intense sun beat down upon the emerald coverings. Walking beside the lion, Dorothy found she sometimes had to shield her eyes depending upon the angle of the sun. The light reflected off the glittering green walls.

It took a few more hours of travel before they finally reached a gate. The guards wore green cloaks over olive coloured armour and stood with their long spears crossed to block the way.

One guard shouted in alarm at the sight of Mr Lion, and two more guards appeared with tridents, menacingly pointing them towards Dorothy’s furry companion

“Please don’t be scared,” Dorothy said. “He’s a very friendly line, and I can speak to him.”

“Lions aren’t known to be friendly,” one of the spear-carrying guards said, pulling on a moustache that drooped down either side of his mouth.

“Well, as you can see, this lion is very friendly and very obedient. Please sit Mr lion.” The lion sat at Dorothy’s command. “That’s a good lion now please hold out your paw to shake this man’s hand.”

“I’m the sergeant,” the man with a moustache said in a stern voice.

“Okay, please hold out your paw to shake this good sergeant’s hand.”

Mr lion obliged, but the sergeant wouldn’t take up the lion on his offer, although he looked suitably impressed.

“What do you want in the city?” The sergeant turned his attention back to Dorothy, looking her up and down, his eyes lingering on her long legs.

“We want to see the Wizard.”

All the guards laughed, and those with the tridents relaxed.

“Why is that so funny?”

“The Wizard doesn’t see anybody these days. Everybody knows that.”

“Well, I don’t know that. Mr Lion doesn’t know that, and Mr Scarecrow doesn’t know either,” Dorothy said. “Mr Huggy, did you know that?”

Huggy shook his head.

“So not everyone knows the Wizard doesn’t see anybody anymore.”

The sergeant looked at his fellow guard with the spear, and they both raised their eyebrows.

“Where are you from?”

“I’m from Kansas. I’m Dorothy Gale, and I’m pleased to meet you.” Dorothy curtsied and displayed her most winning smile. She hoped if she was as polite and as nice as possible, they would let her in. She’d tried to hide the disappointment of them saying that the Wizard of Oz wasn’t seeing anybody, hoping she might change his mind.

“Where is Kansas? We’ve never heard of Kansas.”

“Kansas is not in Oz. I came here a special way, and I’m looking to see the Wizard so he could help me get back home.”

“She killed the Wicked Witch of the East,” Huggy said, stepping forward in front of Dorothy and then, having looked at the two very long spears that were taller than him, he stepped back again.

“Is this true?” The sergeant peered suspiciously at Dorothy, once again twirling at the ends of his moustache.

“And she’s got ginger hair,” his fellow guard said. “No one in Oz has ginger hair.”

“So you see I’m not an ordinary person,” Dorothy said, “So I’m sure the Wizard of Oz would want to see me.”

“But if she is a witch killer, then she could be dangerous,” the trident carrying obese guard said.

“I am not dangerous, am just a Dorothy.”

“Then how did you kill the witch?” the fat guard said.

“I dropped my house on her.”

This had all four of the soldiers, and guards muttering to each other in astonishment and Dorothy began to think that perhaps it wasn’t one of the best ways to show that she was no threat to them.

“And she’s got a lion for a pet,” one of the others muttered. “She could command it to eat us or any of the people inside.”

“I just want to go home,” Dorothy said, putting on her sweetest smile. “I really am no threat to anybody here.”

“And that tin man’s got an axe.”

On hearing those words, Tin Man immediately dropped the axe on the floor and lifted his hands. They didn’t seem to see the scarecrow or Huggy as a threat.

“I think we should take her to the captain,” the sergeant said.

“We should search her first,” one of the fat trident guards said. “She might be hiding a weapon.”

The sergeant nodded in agreement

“Take off your dress,” he commanded Dorothy.

“That’s an obscene thing to ask a young lady,” Dorothy said.

“A young lady who throws houses around, who has a Lion as a friend and is ginger.”

“What has being ginger got to do with anything.” Dorothy felt indignant. “What have you got against ginger hair?”

“You were all supposed to be wiped out by the witches many years ago.”

“Why? because we are dangerous?”

“The wicked witches thought so. They declared gingers had special powers which could kill them, so they killed all the ginger boys and girls in the land.”

“That is horrible.”

“Appears they were correct though,” the other spear-carrying guard said.

Dorothy had to admit that it was right as she had killed one of the witches already, even though she knew it was a big mistake and nothing to do with being ginger.

“Then I am only dangerous to wicked witches, not to the Wizard or Emerald City.”

“If you want to get into the city, then you’ll take off your clothes.” The sergeant spoke after a quick discussion with the other guards to confirm that is what they thought she should do.

“What out here in front of everybody?” Dorothy indicated not just her companions but a small crowd gathering of other people who wanted to enter the city. “I’m a girl and I don’t want them seeing all my special places.”

“All suspicious individuals need to prove they are not armed and do not present a danger to the people of Emerald City. If you do not comply you must either leave these gates immediately or will consider you an enemy of Emerald City.”

“What does that mean?” Dorothy asked.

“I get to stab you with this.” The fat guard pushed his trident towards Dorothy.

“Then it seems I have little choice,” Dorothy said. Reluctantly she grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head before handing it to Huggy.

“Everything.” The sergeant placed the tip of the spear close to Dorothy’s panties.

Giving him one of her sternest glares, she slipped them down her pale white legs until they puddled at her feet. Stepping out of the silver underwear, Dorothy gave them to Huggy.

“What about the shoes?” The fat guard said.

“I can’t take them off,” Dorothy said. “They were on my feet from when I killed the Wicked Witch of the East, and they won’t come off.”

The crowd of onlookers increased in size, mainly because they were pushing from further back in the queue to see what was going on. The rumour of a strange ginger girl stripping naked had piqued their interest.

“Put your arms in the air and turn around slowly,” the sergeant said.

Dorothy did as she was told, her fully naked body exposed to everybody watching as she gradually stepped around in a circle allowing the guards to carefully examine her. When she completed a turn, she saw the fat guard had a hand inside the front of his trousers.

“She might be hiding something inside her,” the fat guard suggested.

“That really is a vulgar thing to say,” Dorothy shook her head with her arms in the air. “How on earth could I have anything inside me that could be dangerous?”

“She has a good point,” the sergeant said.

“She hid rings up there in our village.” Came a voice from the crowd. “We saw her in the magic show.”

“A magic show?” the sergeant enquired of Dorothy.

“I was working with Mr Marvel so we could get money to cross the ferry and come to Emerald City.”

“And you hid rings up there.” He used a spear again emphasises the point, and she felt the tip brush her sensitive skin, causing her to shiver.

“Well, I guess.” Though Dorothy wasn’t sure how to answer as she didn’t know exactly how Mr Marvel had performed the trick.

“So, she could have something dangerous up there,” the fat guard said triumphantly. This time the Sergeant agreed.

“Turn around and bend over,” the sergeant said.

Reluctantly Dorothy complied.

“Spread those cheeks,” he commanded.

Feeling total humiliation, Dorothy reached around and gently pulled apart her butt cheeks. “Wider, as wide as you can go,” the sergeant demanded.

She felt the tip of the spear against the edge of one of her bottom holes, encouraging her to pull them for apart.

“That’s cold,” Dorothy’s said trying to hold back some tears as she felt the gentle prodding of the spear as the tip touching the entrance to her bum hole, though not in a rough way. She shivered again. He prodded a little further, sending a strange, stimulating jolt through her body.

“Legs further apart. Now stretch the pussy.”

“I beg your pardon.” Dorothy couldn’t believe her ears, but then felt the spear between her legs.

“You heard what I said. Legs apart and pull those pussy lips nice and wide.” Dorothy had heard the word used before about her sacred place but never in such a vulgar manner. But she didn’t really have a choice as he pushed apart the inside of her thighs with the wooden handle, forcing her to spread further. Dorothy took a gulp of air and swallowed before her hands moved down to her sacred place and spread the lips. “Come on, girl’s a lot wider than that.”

“Please sergeant, this is so humiliating,” Dorothy said. “I’m just a girl.”

“Shut up while we examine you,” the sergeant said. His face pushed up close to her exposed sacred place as he peered at her.

She could tell some of the crowd were trying to sidle around so they too could get a view of the ginger witch killing girl with her sacred place spread wide.

“I think I’m satisfied you have got no weapons. You may pass through the gate and are instructed to see the Captain of the Guard.”

“Otto, take them to see the captain.” the sergeant said to the fat trident carrying guard.

“Please may I get dressed?” Dorothy asked hopefully.

“The captain will decide,” the sergeant said and ordered his fellow spear-carrying guards to open the gate wide enough to allow the small party through.


	25. A thorough inspection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is important to search properly and ensure all people entering the city are not trying to smuggle in weapons.

“Has she been searched?” The Captain of the guard had a very similar drooping moustache to that of the Sergeant. He was taller though, over six feet in height, and on his head, he wore a perfectly formed topknot. The olive-green uniform looked immaculate as he stood to examine the naked visitor brought his attention.   
“An outer inspection at the outer gate as per protocol,” Otto nodded. “Should we proceed with the inner gate protocol, sir?”   
The Captain looked Dorothy up and down. “Killed a Witch you say?”   
“Yes, sir.”   
“And she’s, ginger, isn’t she?”   
“Yes, sir.”   
“And you say she’s hidden things inside her before?”   
“Yes sir, and she confirmed it herself,” Otto said.   
The Captain did another circle of Dorothy’s body. “In that case, I shall conduct the inner protocols myself. Bring her into my room.”   
“Yes, sir.”   
The Captain vanished into a gap in the walls, and Otto roughly pushed Dorothy after him until they were in a small office with only a desk and a chair.   
“Guard you will remain as witness to confirm I conducted the search thoroughly.”   
“Yes, sir.”   
Dorothy heard a pleased tone from Otto as he closed the door and stood to attention.   
“Dorothy Gale I will hereby conduct a search in accordance with the inner protocols of Emerald City. You will stand in the centre of the room, arms raised and your legs twice shoulder-width apart.”   
Dorothy did as she was told and noted the Captain of the guard removing his billowing green cloak and unfastening his lime coloured breastplate.   
“Turn to face the other way keeping the same position.”   
Dorothy once again carried out his orders. Facing away from the desk, she glanced up and saw Otto’s grinning features. The Captain came up behind her, his hands on her ankles as he started on each side of her leg, rubbing just above the shoes before he continued up her calves onto her knees. He slowly explored her thighs until below Dorothy’s bottom cheeks. He then moved onto her other leg carrying out exactly the same procedure.   
His hands went on to her buttocks, he gripped her orbs, rubbing them before his touch swept across her naked back and up to her neck. His hands massaged her back and shoulders, making Dorothy feel warm and relaxed.   
The Captain turned his attention to the side of her body until his palms lay on her hips. Dorothy shivered, her body reacting to his deft touch. Curious fingers moved around the front of her slender waist, but short of her sacred place. He then swooped onto her lower belly, up across her stomach and stopped below her breasts.   
Dorothy started breathing heavily, anticipating his hands, gripping her pert mounds and hardening nipples. But his fingers circled beneath before moving back onto her side, rubbing up and down her waist.   
“Such remarkable skin,” the Captain said, “and it smells so sweet.” He took hold of her plaits and ran his hands up and down them both. Giving each a gentle tug, the Captain sent little spikes of pleasure spearing through Dorothy. She felt the warmth and moisture between her legs.   
“And I’ve never seen such beautiful hair. What do you think, Otto?” the Captain said.   
“The most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” The guard’s eyes were wide and the bulge in his trousers extremely pronounced.   
Suddenly the Captain grabbed Dorothy’s breasts, and he caressed them before working her solid nipples between his thumb and forefinger. She gasped as the images of the wild dance after the magic show flashed through her mind and adding to her arousal.   
“All good so far,” the Captain whispered into her ear, his mouth close and body pressed against her back. Hot breath blew into her ear before she felt the wetness of this tongue as he licked her. Dorothy had never imagined something so simple could feel so good.   
His fingers left her breasts wanting more. His hands roaming down her belly and settled above the sacred place. He rubbed her inner thighs.   
“Have you anything hidden up there today, Miss Dorothy Gale?”  
“No, Captain,” she gasped.  
“Do you want me to check to make sure?”   
“Yes, please, Captain.”

Dorothy could hardly believe she’d uttered those words, but her sacred place was so wet she wanted the Captain to explore her. His fingers moved between her thighs and rubbed on either side of the sacred region. She moaned and adjusted her hips, trying to make it so at least one set of fingers slipped inside her. The Captain resisted the move, keeping himself just on the cusp of her sacred place before he plunged his fingers deep into her soaked sex. Dorothy panted with longing as probed and fingered every portion of her erogenous areas.  
“I think there's only one way to be totally sure,” the Captain said. “Bend over my desk and spread those pussy lips.”   
Dorothy unquestioningly turned, bent over the rough wooden desk and spread herself. She had to resist the urge to slip her own fingers inside and work herself into a heightened state of arousal. But the next thing Dorothy knew a large cock drove inside her as the extremely excited Captain lost all control and banged away inside the ginger teen.   
She placed her hands on the desk so she could push back as he thrust into her and try to get the maximum pleasure out of the Captain's cock. But it was all over a few moments later as he squirted his thick seed deep inside her body, mingling with their own extensive juices. When he pulled out, she felt them dripping down her leg.  
“At least that’s clear, sir,” Otto panted from the door. “Don't forget the other holes.”  
“That's an excellent point, Otto.” The Captain wiped the sweat from his brow and moved round to take his seat. “We need to make sure it's a very thorough search.”  
With Dorothy still trying to recover, having not climaxed herself, she found herself desperate for more despite the embarrassment. Only to be disappointed when Otto’s short fat cock slid inside her sacred place for only a few moments before he spread her butt cheeks. Forcing his cock in her bum, he used the lubricant he’d gained from her sacred regions.  
But the flashing memories of the party came to Dorothy, and she remembered how good it felt to have a cock up her bottom. She remembered to relax and allow the rough guard to keep shoving his cock deeper and deeper into her anus. As he eagerly pumped away with his short member, Otto reached forward and squeezed her boobs. All the while, he grunted like some sort of pig.   
“Need to check inside that mouth as well,” the Captain stood, his cock once more erect.

Obediently, Dorothy opened her mouth as he pushed his cock between her soft lips. He then adjusted her head so he could thrust down her throat until his ball sack bounced off her chin. 

Her body reacted to two cocks ramming her, and she exploded into an orgasm, though was unable to scream with delight.  
The two men tensed simultaneously, and from both ends, she felt thick man seed defile her body. As they removed their cocks, more juices dripping from her bottom and sacred place as she tried to swallow down the thick seed the Captain had deposited in her mouth. 

The Captain pulled up his trousers and stood to attention.  
“I can confirm the inner protocols have been completed, no dangerous weapons were found do you agree, guard Otto?” 

“Yes, sir.” Otto was barely able to speak.


	26. Time for a bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It appears the baths in the Emerald City are very sharing.

  
“Please escort Dorothy to the main palace where she should be washed and presented to the Duchess to make the further arrangements.”  
“Yes, captain.” Otto finished sorting his uniform before saluting and directing Dorothy out of the room.  
“Can I get my clothes back, please?” Dorothy asked, glad they would take her to a place where she could get clean.  
“They will allocate new clothes in the palace,” Otto said.  
“And my friends?”  
“They have already been escorted to the palace and your meeting there. You will be presented to the duchess, and if you want to meet with the Wizard, you better be on your best behaviour and do she says. She’s the one who will make the final decision.”  
“Is the duchess nice?” Dorothy asked.  
“Very nice,” Otto said. Though Dorothy had a feeling, he didn’t mean her personality.  
On leaving the gatehouse, Otto marched the naked Dorothy through the main entrance square to the city before walking down the streets to get to the palace. Once again, she witnessed the kaleidoscope of greens as even most people’s skin was coloured some shade of green. Certainly every piece of clothing.  
It meant she stood out even more with her pure white skin and strawberry blonde hair bouncing as he walked down the green cobbled streets. She tried to cover herself as plenty of folks ogled her pale nudity as they went about their daily business. The main street they walked down was filled with the sort of shops Dorothy would expect to find in Kansas. The only difference was everything being sold, from clothes to bread or even tools, was green.  
“Can’t I have a cloak or something,” Dorothy begged Otto. He sneered, pushing her forward with his hand on her bottom. Giving her bare cheeks a squeeze. “Not part of the captain’s orders.”   
Dorothy doubted fondling her bottom was part of his orders either. But having let the tubby guard thrust his thing up there, she could hardly complain.  
Biting her lip, Dorothy endured the long walk down the main street to the Palace. They turned away before the end, and Otto had her pass what appeared to be the barracks for the Emerald City guards. Soldiers either stopped their drills or emerged from the sleeping areas to gawk at Dorothy’s exquisite figure. Otto slowed the pace, making sure everybody had a good look. He spoke to his fellow guards in a language she didn’t understand. The way he then pointed at her behind suggested he was relating his intimate search.  
Eventually, they reached the palace where she was handed off to some smaller guards before being passed down into what they called the bathing area.  
Despite the water having a greenish hue in the open pool, Dorothy exulted in its wonderful warmth. She submerged herself right up to the neck, allowing the water to clean all the stickiness from her skin. Being an open bath, men and women enjoyed the luxury water, but since she’d just spent much of the journey naked, Dorothy didn’t feel shy about her body. She couldn’t imagine how disgusted Aunt Em would be with her if she knew how comfortable Dorothy had become with her nudity.   
She wickedly imagined giving Hank a show when Aunt Em next made her bathe outside, rather than desperately trying to cover up.  
However, there appeared to be a strange custom which saw the bathers washing each other, even if they were strangers. Dorothy had only been in the water a few minutes when a couple waded over to her holding soap, and two lime coloured sponges.  
“You look all alone, dear.” The large lady with heaving bosoms said. “And such beautiful hair and skin. You can join our washing.”  
“Oh, it’s okay,” Dorothy said, “I can do it myself.”  
“Nonsense,” the woman tutted, “no-one washes themselves when there are others to help. Isn’t that so, Herbert?”  
“Of course, Edith, that would be very rude.”  
“I don’t like to be rude,” Dorothy said, and immediately the woman and man were either side of her, lathering the soap before spreading over her front and back. They also pushed her upwards, so more of Dorothy’s body was exposed above the water. It allowed them easier access to every private nook and cranny of a body they were keen to explore.  
“This skin is amazingly white,” the woman said. “Where do you come from?”  
“I’m Dorothy from Kansas, and I’ve come to see the Wizard.”  
“But the wizard hasn’t seen a body in years.” Herbert pushed Dorothy’s legs apart as he soaped her inner thighs and rubbed his fingers on her sacred place. Edith concentrated on making sure the white boobs were clean and seemed interested in Dorothy’s cherry red nipples.  
“Apparently, I have a good case if I see the Duchess.”  
Herbert now had her legs completely spread, and his whole hand groped her sacred area, long thin fingers occasionally finding their way between her smooth lips.   
A few minutes of silence followed as the couple concentrated on washing every part of Dorothy. The couple focused their efforts on either her sacred place, bottom or breasts. Dorothy was sure her body would be the cleanest it had ever been after the bathing session was over.   
Of course, it didn’t end there, and she had to return the favour in bathing the couple. At one point Dorothy found herself with her fingers pressed inside Edith’s sacred place while her other hand wrapped around Herbert’s green thing. He told her it needed an excellent scrub which resulted in him squirting his lime green seed.  
Eventually, the couple said they were satisfied that all the washing had been done and moved away. An attendant came along and encouraged Dorothy to go into the plunge pool and despite the freezing water, the experience proved incredibly refreshing and helped rinse all the soap from her body.  
The attendant then took Dorothy to another room where she put on two fluffy mittens before wiping down Dorothy’s body. Once finished, the attendant gave Dorothy directions of where to go next in the palace to get dressed.   
While had been Dorothy sure she remembered the directions, she realised the attendant hadn’t told her whether to go right or left out of the door.   
“Bother,” she muttered to herself when she discovered the attendant had already left the room. Dorothy went left.


	27. Preparing for Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothy likes pudding. Bur doesn't normally wear it.

The clattering of metal tins, shouts of chefs bawling out their assistants and a myriad of delicious smells told Dorothy she’d stumbled into the kitchens.  
“You there, girl, get over here,” A robust woman in a bright green chef’s outfit and hat waddled over. “We’ve been waiting for you. Get on the trolley. Quick sharp we can’t keep the Duchess waiting.”  
“I’m looking for the Duchess,” Dorothy said hopefully.  
“Well, get on this trolley, and we’ll prepare you.” The woman placed her hands on Dorothy’s shoulders and guided her through the throng of people surrounding tables. The staff prepared what looked like delicious puddings. Sweet smells of toffees and honey fruit wafted under Dorothy’s nose.   
“I’m supposed to get prepared first.” Dorothy glanced down at her naked form.  
“Yes, I know that’s what we’ll do.” The woman patted the silver trolley. “Now lie on your back. We have warmed them.”   
As a puzzled Dorothy climbed onto the trolley, the woman turned to face the other chefs and cooks in the kitchen. “Creamers, fruit designers, the Duchess’s dessert has arrived. Snap to it.” She clapped her large hands and two women, and a man hurried over to the trolly.  
“She’s a redhead,” the young male exclaimed, “I thought the Duchess wanted a back haired girl?”  
“A real beauty, though.” A tall thin woman fingered Dorothy’s plaits.  
“You say you’re here for the Duchess,” a bald-headed woman said as she raised up a large cream filled bag over Dorothy’s body.  
“Yes,” Dorothy nodded.  
“Well redheads are rare so she must be a treat,” the tall woman said, “and we haven’t got much time. Everyone else is nearly done.”  
“But we are the best team, aren’t we ladies?” The young man said and the three high fived over Dorothy’s body before the bald lady began squeezing cream onto the naked teen’s tummy.  
“I’ll get the honey coating.” The young man rushed to the centre of the enormous kitchen.  
Still trying to work out what was happening, Dorothy glanced around the room and saw a dozen other trolleys with people lying on them. Beautiful young men and women whose bodies had been adorned with delicious creams, pastries, fruits and chocolates. While Dorothy thought it unlikely she should have been in the kitchen, it seemed as though she might get an audience with the Duchess.  
Spirals of cream covered her stomach before the woman moved to spread the thick white contents on Dorothy’s breasts. The man poured a warm golden liquid on her legs which solidified before too much dripped onto the metal surface of the trolly. Something pressed at her sacred placed. Raising her head, Dorothy saw the tall woman holding what looked like straight bananas, one of which she pushed gently into the teen.  
“Try to relax,” the woman said. “Lie your head back down and take a few breaths. This is a favourite of the Duchess.”  
Dorothy did as she was told, feeling the long yellow banana type object slide further inside her sacred place. Then a second banana slid next to the first, though neither caused her any pain.  
“More honey and cream please,” the woman shouted. “I’ll work on the cones.”  
The three assistants buzzed around Dorothy, adding all manner of tasty looking and smelling delights to her body. Ice cream cones were carefully placed around her breasts with fruit displayed on them. Her limbs were encased in the honey coating before patterns of cream were laid over the top.   
Sometimes the delicious produce tickled and Dorothy had the urge to itch, but she knew any movement would destroy their careful arrangement and ruin her chances to meet the Duchess. Though this all seemed to be a big mistake.  
The large chef reappeared and hovered over the scene.  
“Good work. Now for the final touch.”  
“I’m sorry, I’m late.”  
While Dorothy couldn’t move her head properly, she swivelled her eyes and saw a busty beauty with raven hair burst into the kitchen and rush up to the chef.  
“You’re too late now, honey,” the chef said. “This girl is taking your place.”  
“But it's supposed to be me.” The young woman looked heartbroken.  
“I think I might be in the wrong place,” Dorothy put in, “I was looking for a room to get dressed.”  
But the chef shooed the raven-haired girl away, ignoring Dorothy's protestations.  
“And you need to keep your mouth shut.”  
A large honey fruit was thrust into her mouth, and though she bit down on it because she couldn’t move her head back-and-forth, Dorothy couldn’t get the fruit out of her mouth to speak. Warm honey juice was then poured over the fruit to fix into place. Though they made sure her nose was clear so she could still breathe.  
“You wanted to see the Duchess, didn't you?” the chef said.  
Dorothy gave a barely perceptible nod.   
“Well this is your chance, but I warn you she is not in of a good mood, so you need to be the best possible dessert if you're going to get what you want. Do you understand?”  
Dorothy answered with a flick of her eyelids.  
“Good. Porters! Take the puddings to the anteroom.”


	28. Being a pudding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life as a pudding is very odd

The boy and the girl gently pushed Dorothy through the kitchen, and she joined a queue of other volunteers who all appeared to also be made up as puddings. Honey juice seeped into her mouth as she licked the inside of the apple, which Dorothy found incredibly delicious.   
She heard the call for puddings, and there was a great roar from the chamber. They threw the double doors they waited behind open, and they wheeled Dorothy towards a great hall filled people bashing their spoons against mugs and glasses, demanding the delicious dessert.  
Dorothy tried to take as much as possible, flicking her eyes left and right and saw guests stood in groups as if around tables, only there were no tables. Pushed through the throng, Dorothy realised the puddings obviously provided the tables. Brought to a halt by a gathering of four men and four women, Dorothy watched them stroll around her. They examined their desert presented on the body of a nude girl while making comments about her appearance.  
It became clear which one was the duchess, different from the others she had a massive thick black hair cascading down her voluminous green gown. Though she had the brightest emerald eyes that Dorothy had ever seen. Her skin looked very tight, as though she was old, the wrinkles had been stretched, wrinkled and stretched again. It meant her expression looked cross all the time even though Dorothy saw her eyes were wide with wonder at the delightful dessert dished up for her pleasure.  
“She does not have black hair,” the duchess said. “I wanted one with black hair.”  
Dorothy recalled the girl who came in late had black hair and the cook in his busyness must have missed the hair colour desired by the duchess. Her heart thudded in panic, afraid that after all this getting ready the duchess might turn her away and she wouldn’t get to speak to her after all.  
“Her hair is that of strawberries,” an old man said as he peered close to Dorothy’s face. There had been no attempt to stretch out any of the wrinkles, warts or age spots from his cracked skin. Glossy green hair had been tied back in a ponytail. “I have never seen such a thing. Why this is a rare prize.”  
“But I ordered a blackhead,” the duchess stamped her feet  
“But darling they have excelled themselves,” the man said and started sniffing around Dorothy’s hair. His nose pressed against one of her cheeks. “Look at these exquisite freckles, I have never seen such a thing, never seen such beauty. And just when we thought all these creatures had been killed. I just can’t resist.” The old man licked Dorothy’s freckles underneath her eyes.  
“Now, now my Duke,” the duchess tapped the top of the old man’s head. “You know the etiquette.”  
He snatched his face away “I’m terribly sorry. I just couldn’t resist.”  
The duchess’s face now appeared close to Dorothy’s, and she felt her breath on her cheeks. Another, smaller and more delicate tongue, licked her face.  
“But you are right, my duke. Such delicate markings, a beautiful face.” The duchess trailed her fingers around the apple and up Dorothy’s cheeks as she examined her more closely. Her hands stroked Dorothy’s plaits. “They have excelled themselves with this creature.  
“Oh, yes.” The Duke had moved further down the desert, examining the exposed flesh. “She will be a perfect pudding.”  
The other guests around Dorothy murmured in agreement. All discussed her beauty, and after comparing her to the puddings provided for the other guests, delighted in declaring they had by far the most exquisite, exalting about her hair and freckles. One suggested they should put her on display in the great hall like a piece of art. Though only when they had finished devouring her.  
The praise gave Dorothy a warm feeling inside. Hearing people talk about her freckles and ginger hair without mocking her almost brought on tears. She’d spent her life being told how ugly and disgusting she was, and that no boys would ever want her. But in Oz, virtually everybody lavished praise on Dorothy’s beauty. They all wanted her.  
Dorothy secretly hoped she’d never wake from such a delightful dream.  
“Time to begin the pudding,” the duchess said.  
The eight guests took their places around Dorothy’s body and placed their hands behind their backs.  
“One, two, three go.” The duchess announced.  
Taking it turns, the duchess going first, they attempted to get to the fruit out of the ice cream cones over Dorothy’s breasts without dropping them. When somebody lost a fruit, they were out of the game.   
When they were down to the last two. Which happened to be the duke and duchess. Their prize was to suck up the rest of the cream directly from Dorothy’s boobs. It took no time for the cream to be slurped up. The winner’s mouths sucking at her breasts until both the nipples were rock hard. The tongues of the duke and duchess rolled them around in their mouths before licking away the rest of the cream so the two titties, as they liked to call them, were completely clean.  
The losers then attacked the cream around her exposed breasts before they all had a good suck and lick at the girl’s titties. Even before they’d finished, attention turned to the protruding objects lodged in Dorothy’s sacred place.  
While she couldn’t quite see, Dorothy felt movement as the duke and duchess manipulated the exposed ends of the banana type objects with their mouths. It caused the items to wriggle and rub inside her sacred place while simultaneously, lips and tongues smothered her nipples. The warmth grew in her belly, and she bit harder into the honey fruit. More honey juice dribbled onto her tongue, adding to the sweet sensations ravishing her body.  
A new game involved the guests trying to dislodge the fruit with only their mouths. Sometimes they did so by licking down through the cream right onto Dorothy’s sacred place. Others tried to grip the slippery objects from the base while others gripped the banana fruit’s tip to pull them free. It meant the portion embedded inside Dorothy, rubbed and wriggled, sometimes slipping deeper and stimulating her sex to the point she felt her juices flooding the area.  
This, in turn, lubricated the two objects and eventually the duchess and one the women guests pulled them free. They offered the extracted treats to the other diners because their prize was to lick the remnants from Dorothy’s sacred pace.  
The duchess bent over to clean any remaining cream and all food items around Dorothy’s sacred place before slipping her tongue inside. She commented on how wet the young girl was, getting the rest of the party to taste her.  
Everyone tucked into the piles of cream and fruit on Dorothy’s body as pudding time descended into a free for all. The only rule being that guests had to use their mouths to scoop up the delicious contents.   
They took turns to work her sacred place and nipples with their tongues while other mouths nipped and sucked at every portion of her skin. Other diners drifted over from their puddings on hearing how tasty the ginger-haired girl was.  
With the addition of extra mouths, Dorothy grew hotter and hotter until one tongue buried so deep inside her a wave of ecstasy exploded between her legs and engulfed her entire body.   
The pleasure continued as mouth after mouth tore the thick honey covering off her body. Emerald City folk determined to remove every single piece until the pale-skinned girl was utterly naked once more.   
As they consumed the last vestiges, the duchess and duke worked from either side of a face to eat the honey fruit out of her mouth. Dorothy sucked down the last portions which melted into her mouth, feeling almost consumed by a dream-like state.  
“Who are you?” the duchess asked.  
“I’m Dorothy Gale from Kansas, pleased to meet you, duchess.”  
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Dorothy. Where is Kansas?”  
“It’s not in Oz,” said Dorothy. “I’m trying to get back home and help my friends, and I need to see the Wizard. They told me to present myself to you and that you might help me.”  
The duke laughed. “Well, you certainly presented yourself, dear.”  
Despite her skin not showing a great deal of emotion, the duchess seemed amused.   
“Well, I’m not sure how you ended up here,” she said, “but I think you may have earned yourself an audience with the Wizard. However, I think maybe we should just make doubly sure. Open your mouth.” The duchess turned Dorothy’s head towards the duke, and she obligingly opened a mouth. “Let’s see how good you are with your mouth Dorothy Gale from Kansas.”  
The duke exposed his manhood by merely lifting his rope and thrust his already erect, though somewhat wrinkled looking member, between Dorothy’s lips. The duchess used her hands to ease Dorothy’s head back and forth as the ginger teen’s tongue danced around the tip of the Duke’s man thing. She then wiggled in its very end and seeing him almost explode with the static pleasure.  
“By all that is glorious in Emerald City,” The duke exclaimed.  
Dorothy felt the intense throb before the warm gush of his thin juice squirted in her mouth.  
“Now I think you have earned your audience with the Wizard,” the duchess said.


	29. The great and powerful oz

An extremely nervous Dorothy found herself directed to enter the room of the great and powerful Wizard of Oz. She’d woken that morning in a tangle of bodies amongst friends. Of course, there was the usual sight of a bald head bobbing up and down between her legs as Huggy thrust inside her. Dorothy realised just how small his Munchkin thing was compared to others she’d experienced for the last two days. Probably why it didn’t bother her.  
After bathing again, she’d dressed in beautiful green blouse and trousers and a bright emerald band for a hair. The soft silk and satin material felt sensuous on her skin. The Duchess and Duke joined them for breakfast in the morning before they were guided to outside the room of the great Oz.  
Two guards, with impeccable uniforms and droopy moustaches with perfectly waxed tips, opened the doors. The tinman had been polished and scarecrow furnished with fresh straw, even if it was a bit green. Attendants had brushed lion’s mane, and even Huggy sported new olive trousers with a lime green top.  
They walked through the giant double doors into the room beyond. Green tiles adorned the floor while sparkling emeralds dangled from the ceiling. They moved to the spot they’d been told to stand on. At the far end of the room, a giant curtain gradually rolled back to reveal a tall wide screen. Smoke rose from the bottom as they watched the face of an old man fill the screen. Dorothy noted his bushy eyebrows and a small tuft of hair growing on a prominent chin.  
“Who are you, and what do you want?” A booming voice filled the room.  
Dorothy curtsied. “I’m Dorothy Gale from Kansas,” she said and waited for a moment for the usual question about where Kansas was. The face glowered at her.  
“I have come here because I want to go back home, and everybody tells me that the great and magnificent Wizard of Oz is the person that can help me. So, I’d be very pleased sir if you could help me get back home to my dog Toto.”  
She curtsied again and stepped back.  
“I am the scarecrow, your great magnificence and awesome, great powerful Wizard of Oz,” scarecrow said. “I used to have a Munchkin’s body before the Wicked Witch of the East made me like this. Now she’s dead you are the only person who can make me as I was before so I can find my family again. So, if it pleases your magnificence, I beg for your assistance.”  
The tinman rattled forward and told his story before the lion roared out that he needed to be turned back into a human. Dorothy didn’t know whether she should translate for the great and powerful Wizard of Oz. Eventually, she deemed it probably insulting asking him such a question.  
“And what about you, Munchkin?” The Wizard pointed his gaze towards Huggy.  
The Munchkin shook his head and hid behind Dorothy.  
“If it pleases you the great and powerful Oz,” Dorothy said. “The Munchkin doesn’t request anything. He has been in our loyal companion on the arduous road to come and see the greatest Wizard in all the land.”  
Dorothy curtsied again.  
There was a pause as the giant face examined them one by one and his eyes closed. Steam rose in ever-thickening clouds, some appearing from different parts of the room creating a strange and foreboding atmosphere grew.  
Then his eyes flew open. “As the Wizard of Oz, I do indeed have the power to grant your wishes. But these cannot come without a cost.”  
“If you please, sir, we have little money.” Dorothy wasn’t sure they had any money.  
“Silence girl,” the Wizard boomed so loudly the room quivered. The tinman started to shake, his metal rattling as the group moved closer together. Except for Huggy, who scuttled out of the room and hid behind a pot plant.  
“If I was to do this thing for all of you, then you must first do something for me.”  
Dorothy nodded but kept her mouth clamped firmly shut.  
“Before I can grant you these wishes, you must first kill the Wicked Witch in the West.”  
There was silence and more smoke.  
Dorothy glanced around at the others, they were shocked but looked at her expectantly.  
She stepped forward and curtsied again. “If you please your great and magnificent person. We don’t know how to kill a Wicked Witch. And I don’t like the idea of killing someone.”  
“You killed the Witch of the East, didn’t you?”  
“That was really my house falling on her,” Dorothy said.  
“If you found a way to remove one, you can find a way to remove another. You have the shoes and they give you the power of healing among other things.”  
“The power of healing?” Dorothy looked down at the shoes.  
“When you have injuries, the shoes help to heal them.”  
“But that was…” Dorothy looked around at lion, who looked up at the ceiling.  
“Oh I see. But it still sounds very dangerous,” Dorothy said, “and I’m just a girl. Surely you have armies for such a thing.”  
“Are you arguing with the magnificent Oz,” the voice thundered. The face on the screen looked decidedly irritated.  
“No, your magnificent great and powerful Wizard of Oz. I am sorry, but this sounds so horribly hard.”  
“And are not the tasks you asked of me hard?”   
Dorothy nodded, “I suppose so for a normal person. But not for the great Wizard of Oz.”  
For a moment, the face had a quizzical look as the wizard contemplated Dorothy’s statement. He frowned.  
“The great and powerful Oz has spoken, return only if you have done the deed.”  
There was a considerable cacophony of what sounded like trombones and trumpets together with more smoke billowing out from around the room. The face faded away as the curtain returned, blocking the far side of the room.  
“But Mr Oz,” Dorothy tried to say, but clearly, he would not speak to them anymore.  
The doors behind opened and guards ushered them out of the room. Almost immediately they were escorted from the palace, through Emerald City and to the far gate until they were beyond the city walls. The final word of the Captain of the guard was to give them directions to find the Wicked Witch.


	30. Finding the Wicked Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorothy heads out alone.

After walking a little way down the road, the party collapsed onto a grassy bank. Their shoulders drooped and spirits waned.  
“I don’t know how to kill a Witch,” Dorothy sighed. “I’m only a girl from Kansas.”  
“You killed one Witch,” Huggy said kindly.  
“And you’ve got us all to the Emerald City,” the scarecrow pointed out.  
“You’ve helped us out more than anybody ever has,” tinman added  
“We believe in you, Dorothy,” the lion roared.  
Their confidence almost brought tears to Dorothy’s eyes. But what made it worse was feeling she’d let them down because she had no idea how to defeat the Witch. Even with powerful shoes, as no one had taught her how to use the special healing.  
But neither could she get home to Toto if she didn’t at least try. And maybe this quest to defeat the evil enemies would decide if she woke up back in Kansas.  
“I think you should wait for me here,” Dorothy said to the others. “There is no point us all getting into danger. Maybe as just a girl, I can find a way to sneak in and defeat her.” She didn’t sound very assured, but it was the best Dorothy could do.  
“She’ll know as soon as we set foot in her lands,” Huggy shook his head. “There can be no sneaking. Once you step over the border, she will have power over you like she did over the Munchkins.”  
“Even more reason why you shouldn’t come with me.” Dorothy climbed to her feet. “You can’t do anything to help, so let me do what I can.”  
Before any of them could complain, Dorothy hurried off along the green road towards Winkie land where the Wicked Witch of the West lived. She heard Huggy shouting that it wasn’t fair and he should go with her. He started bawling about how much he loved her and couldn’t bear to see her go.  
The others also shouted for Dorothy to come back, but she knew they would be so afraid because they didn’t want to enter the Witch’s land after what they’d been through before with the Wicked Witch of the East.  
Dorothy wiped the tears from her eyes and told herself repeatedly about it being a weird dream, and at least she would reach the point where she would either be victorious or defeated. The only nagging doubt inside still wondered if you died in your dreams, you wouldn’t wake up. Horrid thoughts that gave her a tight stomach. Dorothy hurried towards Winkie country before she became too scared and scurried back to safety.  
It became obvious she’d walked into the lands of the Wicked Witch of the West. All the colour had drained from the grass and trees. Even the sky seemed darker, reminding Dorothy more of gloomy days in Kansas rather than Oz. As she walked along, she sometimes wondered if she might find herself on a road in Kansas.   
But when the sun shone in Kansas, the sky remained blue and the sun a brilliant yellow. Not like angry red disk glaring down from a bland grey sky which Dorothy walked under in Winkie country.  
Patches of land appeared barren. Limp trees giving way to dark orange bushes growing amongst black and dour boulders littering the landscape. Sometimes Dorothy thought she saw small, almost Munchkin like creatures, scurrying among the rocks. But their skin looked grey and clammy, their heads bald and wrinkled. She tried calling out to them. But they would scamper further away, making painful whimpering sounds.  
Dorothy pressed on. She reached another small wood where the thick gnarly trees trunks glowered at her. Fortunately, their spindly branches seemed too weak to attack like in the forest in Munchkin land. Though drab yellow leaves turned in her direction as if observing the passing visitor.  
With all these eyes on her, Dorothy understood what Huggy had meant about the Witch knowing as soon as someone stepped into her land. As the day wore on, Dorothy travelled deeper and deeper into an area she thought might turn on her at any moment. At one point, she almost panicked, turning and taking a few steps back towards her friends.  
But then the tree roots reared up across the path and blocked her way. Dorothy swallowed down her fear and continued her journey through Winkie country. The Witch knew about Dorothy and wasn’t going to let her leave now considering the girl walked in her hands.  
Dorothy heard chattering from above her. Looking up, large birds circled in the sky. But as they drew closer, she realised they weren’t birds at all, despite having wings. Dorothy blinked several times, hardly able to believe her own eyes. Half a dozen monkeys with small hats, jackets and even shorts circled overhead. Wings sprouted from their backs, and short grey hair covered their bodies.  
They hovered above Dorothy for a few moments before swooping down, grabbing hold of her arms and shoulders before sweeping her off the floor. Dorothy didn’t struggle as they soared into the air. Terrified at what would happen if they dropped her. In less than a minute she’d been flown so high the path and trees below looked like a miniature model landscape.  
She’d often dreamt about being able to fly and wished she could fly her way out of trouble in Kansas. But as Dorothy flew with the air rushing through her hair and around her legs, it proved a terrifying and exhilarating experience at the same time. Though she suspected the end of the flight would see her facing down the Witch.  
Looking ahead, Dorothy saw a dreary city on the horizon that quickly grew until they flew over thick walls built out of boulders piled on top of each other. Dipping lower, black and grey houses came into view, with tiny people walking in the streets. In the centre of the city, a pale yellow castle reared above all other buildings. The monkeys chattered excitedly and flew towards the highest tower, deftly passing through a window and landing in the room beyond.  
Dorothy knew she was in the Witch’s castle.


	31. Dorothy and the flying monkeys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nasty witch lets the monkeys do nasty things.

The flying monkeys entered a sparse room devoid of decoration. The builders had left grey stone blocks of the wall undecorated as opposed to the yellow hue on the outside. Only a single wooden table adorned the centre of the room. Though two lanterns hung from rusty hooks on the walls, their pale orange flames providing a flickering light.  
The one door Dorothy saw as a possible means of escape was blocked off by the chattering monkeys. Two stood either side of the teen, firmly holding onto her wrists.   
They stood waiting and chattering before the door opened. A woman with extremely wrinkled olive skin and narrow beady eyes shuffled through. Her black cloak swirled about her body so only withered hands and a cruel face could be seen. She shuffled rather than walked, head buried into skinny shoulders and a hunched back. A tall black hat rested on her head. Silvery grey straggly strands of hair escaping from underneath.  
“So, this is the famous Dorothy.” The Witch moved up to the teen, giving a smile with her crooked yellow teeth. “The murderer hated by her family and her friends, a common slut opening her legs for almost everyone she meets in Oz.”  
The Witch thrust her hand between Dorothy’s thighs, and despite her frail appearance, the grip proved surprisingly strong. Dorothy’s trousers might only have been made from thin silk, but she was still thankful for even such a small barrier between the Witch and her sacred place.  
“And now she comes to my lands to kill me.” The Witch shuffled around Dorothy, withered hands rubbing against the teen’s hips and back until the crone had completed a full circle. “An arrogant little girl.”  
“I didn’t mean to kill the Witch of the East,” Dorothy said, “it was an accident.”  
The Witch laughed. A hideous cackle which sent tremors of fear through Dorothy. “Stop trying to pretend to be so innocent, my pretty.” The Witch brought her scarred face close to Dorothy’s. “You obviously have special powers from your world.”  
The Witch took a few steps back. “Clothes, please.” she indicated to the monkeys.  
Seconds later, the creatures ripped off the delicate trousers and blouse and tore them to pieces. Dorothy’s underwear was shredded next. Leaving her naked in front of the Witch apart from the silver shoes. She tried to cover herself, but the monkeys grabbed her arms again, pulling them down allowing the Witch to examine her.  
A withered hand painfully tweaked Dorothy’s nipples and rubbed the lips of her sacred place.  
“Look at this body, this beautiful, pretty young body.” The Witch had saliva dribbling down her chin as she examined Dorothy’s skin. “Once I have those shoes, I will be back in such a beautiful body. Monkeys.”  
Dorothy found herself lifted off the ground again, and monkeys went down to her shoes. But as they tried to prise them off her feet, a wave of energy emanated from Dorothy throwing the foul creatures back.   
The Witch raised her hands, and the monkey’s halted, jumping up and down and chattering angrily.  
“I will get those shoes off you, my pretty.” The Witch again showed her full set of disgusting teeth. “Give them to me, and I will let you live.”  
Dorothy instinctively knew if she gave up the shoes, she’d be giving up her life. “Never.” Dorothy tried to look defiant despite her tummy feeling like mush. May that was why she’d not been able to kick off the shoes before. They knew if they left her body, Dorothy would likely be killed.  
“Very well, my pretty,” the Witch said. “By morning you’ll be begging me to take those shoes. And until then you can provide entertainment.” The monkeys started babbling excitedly. The Witch moved to the wall and produced an egg timer from her cloak, which she dropped on to a rusty hook. She flipped over the egg timer so the sand started to run through.  
“You have until the sand runs out to enjoy yourselves.” the Witch cackled at the monkeys who hopped about the stone floor. As she departed the room, half a dozen more monkeys slipped through the door.   
They dragged Dorothy onto the table in the centre of the room. It took a few minutes to realise the horror of what the Witch meant as Dorothy watched the monkeys cast off their jackets and shorts, revealing erect monkey things.  
“Please no,” Dorothy squealed. “Please leave me alone.” Dorothy ripped her arms from the grip of the small monkey paws. She pushed herself upright and kicked the faces of two creatures trying to hold her legs.  
But the remaining creatures swarmed over her body, forcing Dorothy back onto the table. They grabbed at her buds and nipples, spreading her legs and groping the teen’s sacred place. A monkey yanked her jaw down and reached inside her warm wet mouth. Elsewhere vicious paws and fingers poked and prodded and pinched, revelling every time she squealed or shrieked.  
Dorothy desperately tried to haul her hands and legs free again. But even if she dislodged one monkey, another swooped in and took its place, ensuring they kept her firmly pinned onto the table.  
One straddled her neck, leaned over her face and thrusting its monkey thing in her mouth. She tried to force it out, but another creature grabbed her hair so painfully she had no choice but to accept the disgusting thing in her mouth. The monkey began jumping up and down, its balls smashing against her lips.   
Others lifted her legs into the air and monkey paws explored her body. They constantly screeched and chattered, excited by the prospect of how many monkey paws they could get into her holes and how deep they could go. The furry fingers on her breasts and nipples grew crueller. Painfully pinching and pulling. As her nipples hardened they became even more excited.  
She struggled again to pull her arms free, and because the monkeys were not huge, she sometimes wriggled out of their reach. But they would pounce again. There were just too many. Some sat on her hands and legs while their companions probed.  
The monkey on her face squirted its seed inside her mouth. She spluttered, trying to spit out the sour-tasting liquid as a second monkey immediately took its place. The creature forced its thick hairy monkey balls into her mouth, slapping Dorothy on her cheeks as it cackled with monkey laughter.   
Down below, paws changed to monkey penises, and while they were no bigger than Munchkin things and so didn’t cause her pain, the monkeys continually pinched and slapped her skin. The chattering reaching crescendos the more she squealed, screamed and struggled.  
Dorothy watched the sand timer on the wall and tried to will the grains to fall quicker. But the more she concentrated, the slower they seemed to tumble into the bottom glass.  
More disgusting seed filled her mouth. Dorothy wanted to spit it out, but the monkeys would stuff the balls into her and forced her to swallow their juices. They would giggle and chatter before the next monkey climbed on her. Paws continually pulled at her hair, pinched her nipples and groped her thighs and bottom. Never a moment went by without an orifice being filled by monkey paws, balls or penises.  
The tears flowing down Dorothy’s face only excited the monkeys more to step up their cruelty. Eventually, she thought she couldn’t take any more despite knowing that giving up the shoes would mean certain death.  
The final grains dropped to the bottom, and the monkeys gave disappointed squawks before they vanished out of the room.  
Dorothy lay on the table sobbing as virtually every part of her body stung from the monkeys’ attention. Her hopes of killing the Wicked Witch of the West were surely over.  
She couldn’t believe it was a dream anymore. Even in her nightmares, where monsters and nasty creatures rose from the depths of hell to scare her, she would always wake up before things got too bad. While Dorothy might have found herself panting heavily in her bed, not wanting to go back to sleep, the dreams caused no real harm, and she never felt the sort of pain she’d just been through.   
And yet as she lay on the table, a warm glow filled her. The pain faded, and when she examined her body, the red marks melted away with even her boobs returning to the usual soft milky colour. Her cherry red nipples recovered, though remained stiff as her body basked in a pleasurable warmth.   
Dorothy remembered what the Wizard had said about the shoes. It was the magic in the silver footwear healing her body. Hope flickered inside her.  
When the door opened again to admit the Witch and her cohort of flying monkey’s, apart from the sheer humiliation and horror of the monkey’s treatment, Dorothy’s body and skin looked as good as it had before. Outrageously her body felt tingles of excitement.  
“So, what my sister always said about the shoes was true.” the Witch said as she rubbed fingers across Dorothy’s body.  
The teen lurched towards the Witch with so much anger inside her as Dorothy wanted to tear the vile beast apart. But the Witch stepped back, and the monkeys pounced on Dorothy and pinned her onto the table.  
“It looks like there is a bit too much fight left in you.” the Wicked Witch gave Dorothy an evil grin as she backed away from the table. “Another turn, I think.” The Witch flipped over the sand timer, and the monkeys chattered excitedly again. A wave of horror crossed Dorothy. But as she opened her mouth to beg the Wicked Witch not to do it, her words were cut short by a pair of hairy monkey balls pushed between her lips.


	32. In the hands of the horrible Hugo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can plucky Dorothy endure the horrific machine and keep hold of her shoes

The next time she heard the door open, Dorothy realised she’d faded into sleep at some point. With the monkeys gone, whatever horror they put her through, the shoes had at least healed the injuries on her body. A warm glow soothed her, despite being naked in a cold room. Recalling the ordeal, it hadn’t seemed as bad the second time. But could that be true?  
As the Witch stepped inside the room, Dorothy looked at her warily. She still had monkeys as escorts, and they seemed eager to pounce on the nubile form lying on the table.  
“Would you like to give me the shoes now, my pretty?” the Witch said.  
Dorothy shook her head.  
“You know where to take her.” The Wicked Witch commanded the monkeys. They rushed over and lifted Dorothy off the table. Half carrying and half dragging the teen, the monkeys left the room and descended a set of spiralled stone stairs. On reaching a solid wooden door, they barged through into a windowless room.  
Two oil lanterns provided a gloomy illumination. Dorothy’s heart sank as she saw racks of cruel-looking instruments and items of furniture designed to torture people. A green-skinned man had been strung up against one wall, his arms and legs spread-eagled and strange-looking metal clamps attached to sensitive areas. Those fixed to his genitals had weights pulling his private parts down towards the floor and stretching them. The man sobbed and blubbered, not noticing the new arrival.  
The monkeys dragged Dorothy to a wooden frame. They tied her arms above her head using leather straps. Then spread her feet and held them in place using similar straps until she was stretched out in a star shape.  
Another man shuffled over across the room. He had a broad spotty face, and his body seemed out of proportion with gangly arms and legs. Thick fat fingers protruded from the sleeves of a ragged cloth tunic that reached his knees. The man dragged a strange contraption across the floor, placing the device between Dorothy’s outstretched legs. She looked down and saw with dismay a long black rubbery gadget in the shape of a man’s thing. The biggest one she’d ever seen.  
“I’ve got a very special event organised for some guests later,” the Wicked Witch said from the doorway, “But I think we must stretch you out a little before then, my pretty. A few sessions with Hugo here should help.” She produced another sand timer and hooked it onto the wall while cackling hideously. “I’ll have those shoes yet, my pretty.”  
With a sweep of her billowing black cloak, the evil crone departed the room. The monkeys following.  
Hugo remained silent as he continued to fix his implement to the frame. He tested a wooden lever which moved the phallus up and down. When he was happy, Hugo checked the position between her legs before retrieving a bottle from one of the many shelves around the room. He covered the top half of the phallus with what smelt like honey oil. Hugo used his fat fingers to rub the oil between Dorothy’s legs, pushing into her exposed sacred place. Once he discarded the bottle, Hugo lifted the phallus two notches before pressing the black tip between her lips.  
“Please stop. It’s too big,” Dorothy wailed as the tip pushed inside her. “I’ll do anything you ask. You can fuck me all you like.” The desperation made Dorothy use offensive language she’d never have used at home. But she had to try something.  
Hugo grinned, displaying the fact he had no teeth. He watched while pulling down on the lever three times. Each pull thrust the phallus upwards, pushing the black rubber further into Dorothy’s sacred place. She grimaced, feeling herself stretch, and tried to pull herself up with her hands on the leather straps. But Dorothy realised she’d made her torment worse as she couldn’t keep herself pulled up and Hugo added more notches. When her grip failed, Dorothy dropped further onto the phallus.  
The excruciating pain spread. Her insides stretched and strained from the terrible intrusion. Hugo pulled twice more on the lever, and she thought her insides would rip apart. Dorothy screamed and looking down, couldn’t believe how wide the lips of a sacred place were spread.   
Surely she would burst.  
Then Hugo lowered the phallus. She felt it slowly slide down, and a rush of relief filled her as the pain reduced to a low throb.  
“Thank you, thank you. Please, please let me go.”   
Hugo ignored her, getting more oil to lubricate the phallus again. Horrified, Dorothy knew the torture wasn’t over. A flood of warmth as the magic shoes tried to ease her pain gave her some respite, and she closed her eyes, trying to wish the dream away.  
Once again, the rubbery black object squeezed inside her sacred place. Dorothy tried to resist, at first. Again, enduring more pain when her resistance failed as Hugo simply added on more notches to penetrate deeper.  
Dorothy gasped. But this time as the pain bordered on the unbearable and she screamed, a tingle of arousal swept across her. While she tried to comprehend the paradoxical experience, Hugo lowered the phallus for re-oiling.  
Panting as her body recovered, Dorothy saw the sand had not even reached halfway as Hugo grinned and thrust his fat fingers inside her, wiggling them as if examining the results of his work. Grunting, he returned to the lever.


End file.
